The Lonely Road Home
by clcauser
Summary: Sam would do anything for her family. After the outbreak she travelled to America and across the states to find her sister's children. Things were looking up. Until Trenton. Until a rotter hoard, bigger than any other she had seen, trapped her group in a town. Only they weren't alone. After saving Rick and his group, can they make it out alive and make it back to there families?
1. Chapter 1

Silence was a rare thing in the prison these days. Even early mornings weren't sacred anymore. Since the population boom of the Woodbury residents seeking sanctuary a month ago, space and quite was a dwindling commodity. But despite this, the prison residents were happy. For the first time in a long time, peace settled over them.

Rick lifted his hand and rubbed his temples, keeping his tired eyes closed in the vein hope of falling back asleep. The cell he slept in, while sparsley furnished compared to the others was barren except for his weapons, his meager supple of clean clothes and a small photo tacked to the stone wall. A wooden table that had been savaged from the lower levels a few weeks ago held his weapons in various stages on deconstruction for cleaning.

Next to the table was an empty cot. Judith slept here when she wasn't in the arms of her protective brother Carl or adoptive and doting family. Though they weren't related they were family in every sense except for blood. And Judith had a loving family.

Screams and cries of children filtered from the kitchen area next to the cellblock. The prison wasn't small in any sense, but the stones walls and metal bars did nothing to stop the noise from travelling. Rick had got off from patrol only a few hours ago but he knew that it was all the sleep he was going to get.

With a sigh Rick slowly sat up, massaging his neck as his bare feet touched the cold floor. Glancing to his left, he saw the faint light filter through the off white sheet that he placed over the metal bars for privacy. It was a trend with a lot of the residents where privacy was a scarce. It was a prison after all.

Getting dressed in his battered but clean clothes, he put together his dismantled gun and pulled aside his curtain. Sliding the door open he barely stepped one foot out of the door when a small boy cut him off running past, trying to get away from a frazzled mother.

"I'm sorry Rick," she said breathlessly rushing past trying to catch her young son.

"S'alright," he replied with a small smile watching the kid get cornered and went squealing into her arms. Stepping out, he looked down at the cellblock floor to see people get ready for the day.

While most of the adult have various jobs, the children would be in school. Or what passed for a school. They managed to clean out a sizable room that used to be a break room for the guards with Carol taking the teaching position.

As he walked down the balcony, he eyes unconsciously darted into the empty cells. Every one was taken in this block with plans of clearing and securing another block close by. Catching the eyes of a few stragglers, each smiling and say good morning, Rick replied in kind and headed down the stairs and into the kitchen area.

"Is everyone here? Does everyone have their buddy?" Carol called out clearly over the mass of fidgeting children.

"Yes, Mrs. Carol," the children replied in unison.

The youngest child, apart from Judith who was sucking her fist in Beth's arms, was sixteen months old. The eldest was Tony, who was fourteen. The younger kids were easier to keep in the school but the ones over a certain age were harder to keep interested. Espically Carl. Who, as Rick looked over the children, was nowhere to be seen.

Carol who spotted Rick standing off to the side, smiled but shrugged her shoulders lightly when she noticed his expression. She didn't know where Carl was either. Carol with the help of two of the woman from the Woodbury group walked the children out of the room. Their noise slowly disappeared until it was almost silent in the block.

"Morning."

Rick turned to see Beth smile up at him. Rick smiled in return and looked down at his beautiful daughter. Carefully, he lifted Judith out of Beth's arms and gently rocked his baby girl who crooned and smiled up to her father.

"How was she last night?" Rick asked.

"An angel," Beth smiled, looking at Judith lovingly. "Like always. Slept through the night and woke up an hour ago. Raising a baby is nothing like my mama always said it was. All I heard growing up was horror stories about sleepless nights and projectile vomiting."

"It's early days yet," he replied, "We might still have that in years to come. Are you heading into the playroom?"

"Yeah," Beth replied, taking Judith again as Carl passed her over. "Olivia and Rollo are already there. Apparently they didn't give their mothers the best nights."

Olivia and Rollo were the other babies in the group. If the baby's had rough night they would be taken to the playroom, next to the school room, that had cots and beds available for the mother and child. It kept the noise away from the sleeping families in the cells. They both walked out of the kitchen area down the corridor.

"Has Carl been around?" Rick asked.

"I saw him heading off with Daryl at dawn," Beth said carefully.

It was clear to everyone that Carl was having issues. Not only of his attitude was directed at the Woodbury group.

"Maybe he just needs time," Beth suggested carefully.

"He's had time," Rick replied. "They have been here a month and his attitude hasn't changed. I don't think he's been to school all week."

Beth didn't say anything. What could she say?

"Are you going salvaging today?" Beth asked, changing the subject.

"Yeah," Rick replied. "We'll have to take the vehicles further. We've cleaned out the towns near here."

"I guess that's what happens when we have more people to feed."

"You sound like Carl," Rick said.

"I'm sorry," Beth said pulling a face. "I didn't mean-"

"It's okay," Rick interrupted. "I know taking them has made life a lot harder. Hell, we were struggling with just our group. But would you have done it another way?"

Beth paused for a few seconds before replying quietly, "No. I don't think there was another way."

They walked in companionable silence as they reach the open courtyard door.

Rick said goodbye to Beth and Judith as they continued down the corridor to the playroom and he headed out into the Georgian morning heat. The yard was nearly empty with the exception of an elderly couple pruning the boxed herb garden and a group of people building the playground and benches.

Walking up to the fence, he looked out onto the grass. After the fight with The Governor, this area wasn't secure. Walkers and their rotting corpses littered the lawn. But the weeks following they cleaned into up and secured the area enough that the residents were planting crops. It would be months before they saw anything grow, but it filled Rick with pride to see it in this new world. It was still early days but they were building a comfortable life here.

But he was still careful. Gunshots could be heard in the next field. A line of people, both young and old were aiming rifles, shotguns and handguns at a line of tin cans sat on a makeshift wooden ledge. Everyone over the age of thirteen was trained in both weapons and self-defense. Although they had carved out a new life for themselves, there was still a sense of threat hanging over the prison. Rick doubted whether it would ever leave them. He only allowed 30 minutes of practice with a certain amount of ammo to be used. He wanted people trained to protect themselves, but they just didn't have the ammunition to waste.

Usually Rick, Michonne, Glenn or Tyreese would be teaching them to handle weapons. But days when they go on runs, Sasha and Maggie took over. Maggie could handle herself fine on runs, and would take over from Tyreese if it were a medical run. But today was all about supplies.

Even though he was early, everyone was already ready. Run days had a way of exciting people. Walking over to the vehicles, Rick saw Daryl preparing his motorbike with Glenn checking under the jeeps bonnet. Since Dale had died, he became the unofficial mechanic. A job Glenn still felt under qualified for.

"How's it lookin?" Rick asked Glenn as he approached.

Rick looked into the engine. Glenn tightened up something in the bowls of the grimy car and straightened up.

"It'll run," Glenn said heavily, not enthusiastically. "But I can't stress how much we need a new belt. We pushed this one to fit and it's wearing thin already."

"Alright," nodded Rick, and clapped Glenn on the shoulder. "Hopefully this new town will have something usable."

"How much do we know about this town?" Tyreese asked walking out of the outdoor storeroom turned armory carrying the runs weapons. Michonne followed behind, her katana on her hip, she gave Rick a small nod.

"Not much," Rick admitted. "Just it's location on the map."

"I went there in school once. It has a lame natural history museum."

Rick turned to see his son, Carl, walking out of the armory carrying his silenced handgun hanging from his loose holster on his hip.

"Speaking of school," Rick said turning to his son. "Isn't there somewhere you should be?"

"What I'm I going to learn there that I can use?" Carl replied.

"We had a deal. You could come on runs if you went to classes. Beth told me last night you'd hadn't been all week."

Carl looked down at his feet, Rick's old sheriffs hat shielding his eyes from his fathers view.

Glenn interrupted the awkward silence by slamming the car bonnet closed. Rick sensing the tension walked up to his son and pulled he to the side. Maggie and Sasha called a halt to the gunfire in the distance and things went silent.

"Why should I let go you on this when you have broken our deal?" Rick asked bending down to look Carl in the face.

"I don't see why I have to go to school. It's just something to keep the kids from getting under the adults feet. I'm not like them. I'm useful."

Since his mother's death something in Carl had died. Whether it was his innocence or something more serious, Rick didn't know. But it scared him. And the look Carl had in his eyes was far more knowing than a child's eyes should hold.

"That doesn't change the fact we had a deal," Rick said. "If you want to be treated like a adult, fine. But you honor the deal otherwise why should I?"

Carl gritted his teeth, but nodded his head quickly, conceding to his father.

"You can come today, but it's the last time you will be leaving here until I see you in the classroom," Rick added. "Okay."

"Okay," Carl replied.

Rick breathed out heavily as he looked at his son. Shaking his head, he stood straight and put his hand on Carl shoulder as they walked back to the jeep and car. The vehicles were all lined up, facing the closed gate ready to go.

"Everyone set?" Rick asked, watching Carl climb into the seat behind the passenger seat of the jeep which was currently seating Michonne.

"Yeah," Glenn replied with a nod and walked over to the car, where his fiancé was stood waiting to say goodbye. Tyreese was already in the car, turning the ignition.

"You okay leading?" Rick asked Daryl.

"Ain't I always?" Daryl replied gruffly.

Rick smiled at him as Daryl shifted his crossbow onto his back.

"Let's hope this town is better than the others, huh?" Daryl said getting onto his bike.

"Let's hope," Rick agreed moving to the jeep's driver's door.

Carl didn't say or look at his father as he got in and started the car.

"Are you gonna put your boy down? Or do ya want us to keep watchin?" Tyreese said from the drivers seat in the car as he pulled on Glenn's top. Glenn was stood in the open passenger door kissing Maggie goodbye, ignoring the tugs on his shirt.

"I'd thought since he put that rock on 'er finger, things could have cool'd down a touch with 'em," Daryl said through the jeep's open windows to Tyreese.

Rick shook his head and watched as Glenn got into the car and shot everyone a look that said it all. Daryl snorted and moved to the front of the cars. Maggie slid the gate open and Daryl slowly led the way. With Rick behind him and Tyreese following behind. Rick's eyes automatically went to the rear view mirror to watch Maggie close and lock the gates.

Heading down the sloped drive, Daryl slowed to allow Sasha to open the bottom gate. Rick watch as Hershel got up from his seat at the gate and hoped to the roadside. Once Daryl was through, Rick stopped the car besides the old man.

"I don't think I need to tell you to be careful," Hershel said softly. His warm eyes locking onto Ricks.

"Doesn't hurt to hear it every now and then," Rick replied with a warm smile.

Hershel smiled and stepped away from the car.

As the convoy made their way out of the prison, people from the fields halted their work to watch them leave. Like every time they go, the atmosphere was mixed. Apprehensive because the main fighters were leaving, but also hopeful. That maybe this haul would be better than the last.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

The jeep and car was on top of the hill over most of the town. Trenton town sat at the bottom of a bowl in the land with hills and forests surrounding it. It had taken just over 90 minutes to get here.

They had pulled up outside Trenton town limit's ten minutes ago. And to everyone sat waiting in the car and jeep, it was a very long ten minutes. They sat watching the road into town, waiting for the familiar roar of a motorbike. From where they were they couldn't see any walkers.

Rick looked over the town. Most place's he was been through since the outbreak had either been ransacked from anything useful, destroyed beyond recognition or been over run with the undead. This town seemed perfect. The cars that had been abandoned were sat uselessly rusting on the side of the road and most of the shop windows were intact.

But the forest around the town worried Rick. The summer had bloomed trees to their thickest and it was near impossible to see anything through the foliage. Dense forest like that could be hiding a number of things.

Rick looked down to his watch to see the time hit the 15-minute mark. He was about to suggest something, when he heard the faint roar of the bike. Everyone sat higher in their seats to look down at the town. Sure enough, there was Daryl riding between the nearest buildings and then out of town, going up the hill towards them.

Daryl circled around and pulled up next to Rick's open window.

"How's it look?" Rick asked, looking back to the town.

"Good," Daryl said. "Huntin' store and garage. Dint see inside 'em but got a mart. Barely looks touched."

"Walkers?" Michonne asked.

"Nah. Not that I can see," Daryl said squinting against the hot sun.

"It's almost too easy," Rick said under his breath.

"Dint ya hear? We're livin' the easy life now," Tyresse said suddenly.

Rick turned to see Tyresse and Glenn stood behind the bike, wondering what was going on.

Rick looked back at the town. Something was niggling him. But he had a prison wing full of people and he couldn't take his time.

"Okay, we head in. Stick to the plan. We'll park outside the mart. Glenn and Tyresse look for parts. Car, pipes, whatever you think is useful. Michonne and Carl take the store. Me and Daryl will go to the huntin' store. Salvage anything. We'll meet back at the store."

The group nodded in agreement and Rick started the car back up. Following Daryl into town, the car barely going 10 mph. They looked around at the disserted town.

"Don't look right. This place," Michonne stated calmly.

"Nothing's been touched," Carl frowned.

"This place is pretty out it the sticks," Rick answered. "Maybe no-one's been this way."

"What about the people that lived here?" Michonne asked.

Rick couldn't answer that so inside kept his eyes Daryl's back, who was pulling up outside a glass fronted shop.

"Hey, there's a pharmacy up ahead," Carl announced leaning inbetween the front seats.

"'Pending on the others, we'll check it out. If it's good, we might have to come back," Rick replied, turning the jeep around so that it's boot faced the shop door.

Tyresse did the same with the car. As they all got out, they took in the dead silence.

"Holy crap," Carl said shielding his eyes so he could see through the dust on the shop window. "Have you seen this?"

Rick squinted through the windows. The shelves had been rummaged through but there was enough food in there to last a while.

"There's bags on the floor," Glenn said pointing to the floor near the shelves.

Rick saw the black holdalls, half full of tins.

"So were not the first here. Let's get what we need and get out," Rick said.

They separated into their groups and did their jobs.

"This way," Daryl said, nodding his head to a nearby side street. They jogged quickly yet quietly. It was barely a minute away. Trenton was but two streets of shops and the surrounding area was residence.

"What do you make of this place?" Rick asked Daryl quietly as they approached 'Jacob's Hunting Goods'.

"Summat ain't right," Daryl answered. They stopped outside the store door as he softly tried the handle. It open with a small push. Daryl tossed Rick a meaningful look.

Rick nodded and held his shotgun ready as Daryl lifted his crossbow. Daryl pushed the door open with his foot and rushed into the store. They both check the shop was clear before they took in what was around them.

"Holy crap," Rick said, lowering his gun.

Michonne and Carl worked quietly as they filled up their bags as well as the black holdalls that were on the floor. Instead of zipping the bags up, they rushed outside and tipped the contents through the open back window. The metal thuds of the tins were the only sound as they emptied the bags onto the growing mound of canned goods.

Carl let out a small laugh of glee as he passed the last of the filled canvas bags to Michonne. She smiled at him and emptied it.

"Let's keep going," Michonne said handing back half of the empty bags.

Carl raced back in and began again. They had already cleared a few shelves. All of the tinned stuff was in the back of the jeep. Not really caring what they took, they grabbed everything.

"How long do we have left?" Glenn asked Tyresse with his head stuck in the engine of a land rover.

"Barely been twenty minutes," Tyresse said, stood in the middle of the road looking around his lazily. "Got plenty of time."

Ratchette clicks came from the car as Glenn cheered. Tyresse looked over to him and saw him pull out a decent looking belt.

"This car is in pretty good condition," Glenn said with a smile. "Decent timing belt, alternator, crankshaft. The other car I did had new spark plugs, and a distributer. Between the two of them, we have plenty of parts. Make's you think, huh."

"Think what?" Tyresse asked, turning to looking down the road to Carl and Michonne who was filling the jeep up with supplies.

"How are these is good condition when the other car look like they've rusted to the road," Glenn replied, giving Tyresse a quick look before ducking his head back in.

Tyresse give it a though before hearing a sound. A twig snapping. He whipped his head and rifle towards the forest between the two nearby buildings.

"What is it?" Glenn asked straightening up slowly.

"Though I heard something," Tyresse mumbled as he focused.

Glenn went to duck back under the car when another twig snapped nearby. Putting down the tools, Glenn swung his rifle from his back and lifted it up. There was no other sound. Except something was moving in the forest. A sunken white face appeared in the darkness.

"There's only one," Tyresse said readying his weapon.

He was about to pull the trigger when they heard the familiar sound of walkers. Turning around, they saw more walkers coming from the forest behind them.

"Grab the bag."

Carl and Michonne were well on their way of clearing out the store when Glenn and Tyresse rushed in.

"What's happenin?" Carl asked, still clutching the half full bag.

"Walkers," Tyresse said grabbing the empty shelves to help shield the glass windows.

"Then why not –," Carl started.

"No. A lot of walkers," Glenn whispered with wide eyes.

"What about Dad?" Carl asked, dropping the bag and rushing to the window.

There were about thirty walkers slowly making their way into town.

"Dad is still out there."

"There's some more bags back in the car," Rick said trying to shove as much as he could into his bag.

"Never thought I'd hear that," Daryl stated placing more guns onto the piled counter.

"Neither did I," Rick smiled. "I hope the others are having-"

A car alarm broke the silence and interrupted him. As soon as they turned to look out of the window, they saw a couple of walkers.

"We need to get back to the others," Rick said quickly, slinging the heavy bag onto his shoulder.

Daryl grabbed all the straps to the multiple guns and his full bag of ammunition. They rushed out of the door and looked down the road. There were a few walkers nearby, but a lot more making their way from the woods.

"Move," Rick said, shooting the nearest walker. An action mirrored by Daryl who took out the one infront of them.

They ran up the road and turned to look towards the store.

"Fuck," Daryl mumbled.

The mass of walkers were nearly at the mart. The road they came from was already filling up with dead. Everybody froze as dozens of walkers cut them off and surrounded the town.

"Behind," Daryl shouted.

Coming out from behind the buildings on the road and even behind the chain link fence, more and more of walkers were streaming in. They ran closer to the mart that was covered with walkers. They ducked behind the shop side, kneeling they watched the walkers start to attack the mart's windows. They were close enough to see the rest of their group stuck inside.

The car alarm that had alerted them suddenly fell silent. But then another sound started up. Creedence Clearwater Rival's Bad Moon Rising, started blasting from a shop close to the town entrence. Most of the walkers coming from that end of the road turned towards the shop. The group infront of the mart quickly became manageable.

Rick was about to move when he heard running. Turning to the street opposite the mart, which was also filling up with walkers, a lone figure was racing down the road. It was a woman in black boots and trousers. With grey long sleeved hoodie that was dirty and bloodstained she ran closer to them, whipping out a thick, curved sabre between suited for a museum from her hip holster.

She made short work of most of the walkers. But the fighting drew the attention of other walkers. The woman shealthed her swords and grabbed her bow from her back. It was a fancy compound bow. And she used it finish off the rest of them infront of the store.

Rick and Daryl stood up and walked infront of the store where the rest of the group who eyed the woman curiously. She paid no attention as she turned her back to them and ripped off one of the two glass bottle that were hung from her belt. With a quick flick of her lighter she lit the cloth and threw the Molotov cocktail towards the approaching crowd. And the other down the opposite side of the street. The walkers scream as the ones closet to the flames caught flame, and into spread the fire to the others.

"We don't have time," the woman said, taking the bow back and quickly turned to Ricks group.

She looked at Rick and Daryl and lifted her bow. They barely had time to lift their weapons when she fired two arrows at them. It struck home in the skulls of two walkers that were less than a foot behind them. They were they closest ones and more were coming.

Rick and Daryl joined the others and looked up in time to see the woman run back down the road.

"What do we do?" Glenn asked quickly

"We follow her," Rick said.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Sam was going to catch hell for this. She just knew it. Running down the street towards the huge mass of walkers wasn't what she had planned today. She reached the fence she came from and turned towards the group she saved. They were a little ways aways, so she whistled sharply through her teeth and moved her hand in a come on, movement. They were lead by a man who held tightly to the kid wearing a sherriffs hat shoulder.

As they reached the fence and she held open the hole. Big enough for them to get through. The man infront clearly wanted to say something. But she cut him off.

"Come on, come on," Sam snapped. Tossing a look behind her shoulder as the walkers noticed them and began to pick up speed. She didn't pay attention to the looks the group gave her, including the suspicious one of the last guy with a crossbow. Once they were all through, she ducked in and clear tied the gap closed.

The group were slightly out of breath but not out of condition. Walkers quickly covered the fence and began rattling the metal. The group caught their breath. She kept her eyes on the walkers as she pulled out a small walkie.

"Cut the song," Sam said into the walkie. "Head back. Watch your footing on those planks. For God's sake, I don't need to be rescuing you too."

The song instantly cut out and a short reply came over the walkie, "Yes, mum."

"Listen-," the leading guy started.

"Not yet," she interrupted, putting the walkie back in her pocket and made her way through the group. "Come on."

They watched as the woman strode through the middle of the group. She peered down the other alleys to check the coast was clear. Happy, she headed down the alley.

Everyone looked at Rick who just shrugged his shoulders slightly and followed. Rick quickly caught up with the mystery woman who moved quickly down the alley. She checked numerous connecting alley until she came across the one she needed. Taking out her sabre, she waited till they had all caught up.

"We need to move the trash can to get into the door. I'll give you time," she said to them all. The alley they were facing was full of walkers.

"We can help," Carl said,

The woman looked down at him and replied. "Focus on getting the trash can moved."

She didn't give them a chance to answer when she threw herself into the alley, her sabre slashing and cutting at the Walkers.

"Daryl," Rick said.

"On it," he replied and stepped in line with the woman to help kill them hoard.

Rick and Tyresse pushed against the rusted trashcan. The thing weighed a ton and the wheels were useless. They slowly moved it enough to get the door open. Rick held it open for Carl, Tyresse and Michonne.

"It's open," Rick shouted to the two of them.

"Okay," the woman shouted.

They had killed many but more were coming. Daryl ducked in through the door.

"Get it in," the woman said. "and bolt the door."

"What?" Rick shouted.

"Do it!"

Rick hesitated but ducked in. The group was crowed in the small entrance room and watched as he bolted the door.

"What are you doing?" Michonne snapped, trying to stop him.

"She told me to," Rick replied.

They heard the trash can being pushed back infront of the door. Then there was silence. The small window several feet above the door swung open, a holstered sword and the bow came flying into the room. Followed quickly by a pair of black boots. The woman slide gracefully into the room and crouched down low. Putting her bow back on and the sword back onto her belt, she looked back at the group.

"Alright?" she whispered.

They nodded. She quietly made her way to the door and signaled to them all to be quiet and stay low. Once she made sure they all understood, she slowly opened the door and crouched in.

They entered an old office space full of desks and papers skattered everywhere. The far was all glass and the blinds didn't stop the sight of the hoards of Walkers filling past the window. Following the woman, she quietly made her way down the middle of the room, using the desks to shield them from view.

Reaching the end of the room, she headed into another room through a thick door. She waited till they all passed. Then quietly closed the door and lifted a heavy block of wooden to stop it from opening. Standing straight, she lead the way up the steps to another door.

"It's Sam," the woman whispered. "Open up."

There was a pause before the locked click open. Sam pushed open the door and gestured for them to enter. The room was a large office with two desks and black blankets covering the windows. The only light came for two battery lamps and a few candles on the tables. Aside from that, it was empty.

Once everyone was inside, Sam closed the door and locked it. Pulling the nearby table across the door.

"It's okay," Sam said lay down her bow and sword.

Rick and his group crowded in the middle as people came out. Two children, a man and a woman came out of the bathroom. Sam crouched down to the children. Stroking the girls face and ruffles the boys hair. They smiled and giggled at her.

"My name's Sam. That's Lucy, my brother Paul and my niece and nephew, Bell and Theo," she said to the group as she pointed to the people that came out of the bathroom. It was the first time she had spoken more than a few words. The first time they noticed her English accent. "You might as well make yourself comfortable, you're going to be here a while."

Sam walked over to the bag sat open on the chest of drawers. Daryl who was stood leaning against it, shifted slightly as she approached.

"How long have you been here?" Rick asked, noticing that the office hadn't been lived in for very long.

"Four days," Sam replied, taking off her hoodie revealing a bleeding cut on her arm. "We had the same idea as you. Get in, get supplied and leave. We were hear barely a hour before we were swarmed."

"They come from the forest, like these?" Daryl asked stepping to the gap in the blanket and looked down.

"Yes. They must have gone into the forest after their food here dried up," Sam answered.

"They finally started to disappear until you all came riding into town and bought them back," Paul said.

Sam turned and gave her brother a look. He lowered her eyes under her stare and gestured to the children to sit on the sofa against the wall, as he went up to Sam.

"How did we bring them back?" Tyresse asked defensively.

"The noise. This whole town is sat in a bowl. The noise is amplified through the woods. It's like ringing the dinner bell," Sam replied.

"For that I'm sorry," Rick said sincerely.

"You didn't know," Sam said, giving him a nod. "But I wasn't kidding about getting comfortable. Unless you want to take your chances, I'd suggest waiting it out here."

Rick watched as Sam took a seat on the desk corner and the brother began stitching up her wound. He turned to Daryl who was still stood at the window.

"How bad is it?" Rick asked.

"See for yourself," Daryl replied breathing heavily through his nose.

Rick took a look out of the window and saw the entire street filled with walkers.

"How come there's so many?" Glenn asked pulling back the other end of the blanket.

"The church is burnt down," a small voice sounded from the sofa. The little girl, no older than twelve sat playing with her doll while her brother just enjoyed looking at the new people.

"I don't understand?" Michonne said.

They saw Sam throw Lucy a look. Lucy smiled tightly at her and stood up.

"How about we fix something for everyone to eat?" Lucy said.

She led the two children into the store room next to where Sam was stood. They looked up to their aunt and uncle. Sam winked and Paul stuck his tongue out. They giggled and disappeared behind the closing door.

"You're done," sighed Paul after he taped up the bandage.

"We've been traveling across the country for over a year. We've come across small towns like this one. You know deeply religious, church every week type of communities. They all cram themselves into their church seeking whatever salvation they believe in. So you can guess where the rotter's first meal is," Sam explained but left the rest for them to think about.

"That's why nothing was touched," Glenn said catching on.

"No need to clean out the stores if they don't try to survive," Paul added.

"How long were you here before they started leaving again?" Rick asked.

Sam stood up and looked at him.

"Two days. We stayed an extra day to make sure we had enough time to finish getting our stuff before they came back," she replied.

"And then we came," Carl stated.

"Can't be helped, kiddo," Paul smiled at him.

Sam open her mouth to say something when there was a loud bang on the roof above their heads. Rick and his group all raised their weapons to the ceiling.

"It's okay," Sam insisted, pushing down Rick's gun and jestering to the others.

"It's only my brother," she added as the heavy footstep shuffled across the roof. The hatch slid across and a tall, tanned guy swung into the room. Standing on the table below him, he closed the hatch behind him and took in the room full of staring eyes.

"Hello," he said. Freezing under everyone's gaze.

"Thomas, this is, erm-" Sam started then frowned at the group infront of her.

"I'm Rick, this is my son, Carl. Glenn, Tyresse, Michonne and Daryl," Rick said pointing everyone out.

"How many brother's do you have?" Carl asked, watching Thomas jump down from the desk.

"Carl-" Rick warned.

"It's okay. I have three. And two sisters. Our third brother is somewhere in Australia while our sisters are back home," Sam said, smiling down at Carl.

"Back in your camp?" Carl frowned.

"No," Paul replied. "Back in England."

Lucy came into the room with a steaming pan followed by Theo and Bell, who was carrying bowls and forks.

"It's not much," Lucy said, blushing as she caught Thomas's eyes. "But it's good."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

"Are things back in England as bad as they are here?" Rick asked curiously.

"It's bad everywhere," Sam admitted heavily.

It was pitch black outside. Lucy was sat with Theo and Bell as they looked over a book by candlelight on the pull out sofa. Rick and his group were sat on the floor around the low-lit lanterns, with Sam. Although Carl had fallen asleep a while ago, his head resting on his father's lap. The talking had taken a somber turn when the subject of the outbreak came up.

"My youngest sister works, worked, in the government. She found out days before the outbreak that the protocols in place weren't working. The government did what they do best. They bullshitted the public and made sure they were safe. We had the heads up to get me over here before flights stopped coming and going."

"Why the hell would you come over here?" Tyresse asked astounded.

Sam looked at him for a few beats then nodded her head to her niece and nephew, "Because of them."

"My sister divorced her asshole of a husband years ago. He got sole custody because he could afford the very best lawyer. Luckily, Thomas had a job near to where he lived in Vancouver. So he kept an eye on them. Then the outbreak started. And do you know what this guy did? He left them. He got into his $100,000 car and left them sleeping in their beds," Sam explained. "Thomas found them the next day, scared out of their minds."

"How did you know where to find them?" Rick asked.

"We got messages to each other to meet up just outside Vancouver before the lines went down. Managed to get halfway when things went to Hell."

"What your plan now?" Glenn asked, his arms hooked over his knees. "You can't exactly catch a flight back home."

"Paul was in the Navy. Some of his shipmate's have kept his boat safely hidden outside Jacksonville. Hopefully it will still be there. If not, we'll have to refurb one till it's seaworthy-"

Sam paused in her talking as the footsteps above their heads started again and approached the roof hatch. She turned down the lamps slightly as the hatch opened. Daryl and Michonne quietly stood up and peeked through the blackout blankets. Paul and Thomas came into the room. Michonne shied away slightly when Thomas came up to her and looked through her gap.

"Some are leaving. We should be fine by morning to sneak past the stragglers," Thomas said quietly.

"Okay," Sam said climbing onto the table. "Get some food and sleep. I suggest you all get some shut-eye if you can. Still a few more hours till dawn-"

"We can help patrol," Rick said quickly, then paused trying to not wake Carl. "Least we can do."

"Wouldn't do that. Might upset super Sam's hero complex," Paul muttered under his breath as he checked on Theo and Bell.

"Paul-," Thomas warned under his breath.

"There's a time and a place," Sam said quietly but threaningly. "You have a problem, we'll talk about it on the road-"

"On the road. Right," Paul snorted.

"It's done," Sam warned giving him a level stare before reaching up to the hatch and jump gracefully into the night.

Rick's group watched in silence. When Sam disappeared, Rick looked at his group. Daryl nodded to himself and went to get up, but Michonne held her hand to him.

"I got it," Michonne said first and walked towards the hatch.

Once the hatch was closed, Thomas turned the lantern back up and headed into the kitchen.

"Looks like whatever group you're in, leading had its problems," Glenn said as they watched Paul and Thomas disappear into the kitchen.

Muffled voices came from the closed kitchen door, but it wasn't loud enough to pick anything up on. But the tone wasn't good. Seconds later Paul strode out, completely ignoring the group and closed the bathroom door behind him.

Paul came out a few moments later and sat with the group.

"I'm sorry for my brother, it's been harder on him than me or Sammy," Thomas said grimacing to them as he tucked into cold noddle's.

"No. No, it's fine. I'm sorry for getting your people involved. I mean, I'm not sorry that ya'll helped us. I don't think we would have gotten outta that," Rick said quietly.

"Not in one piece, anyhow," Daryl gruffly added, taking a seat against the table, adjusting his Mexican blanket to cover himself.

"She wouldn't have left you like that. Not Sam," Thomas said, then shook his head smiling into his bowl.

"She seems like good people's," Tyresse.

"Best person I know," Thomas nodded, talking through chewing. He swallowed and added, "Been looking after all of us since we were kids. She's the oldest, so she feels like she has to save all of us."

"Which I'm glad for," Lucy chimed in softly, as she took a seat next to Paul. "Hell, saved our skin in Kansas City. Dread to think we're we would be if she hadn't come along."

"I have an aunt there," Glenn said, perking up a bit.

Paul and Lucy looked at each other then Paul looked up at Glenn, "Not much left of the city by the time she got us out a few weeks ago. Filled with hunters, gangs and the dead."

"What's a hunter doin' in the city?" Daryl frowned at them.

"Not an animal hunter," Lucy said slowly.

"They hunt walkers?" Glenn suggested.

Paul shook his head meaningfully.

"Jesus," Daryl gruffed as he closed his eyes. Rick lowered his eyes in understanding but Glenn and Tyresse frowned in confusion.

"There's not much to eat in the city. Hunters and gangs have been known to, hunt, other survivors," Paul said carefully.

"You can't be serious?" breathed Glenn upsettingly.

Tyresse shook his head in disgust.

"Male survivors are lucky. They get killed instantly," Lucy added. Thomas laced his fingers through hers and she smiled fondly at him.

"We owe her a lot," Lucy said significantly to Thomas who looked troubled.

Sam turned on her heel when she heard another person come onto the roof. She was surprised to see the formidable woman with dreadlocks, Michonne she thought her name was, close the hatch behind herself. She saw the woman throw her a look out of the corner of her eye.

"There doesn't seem to be as many this time around," whispered Sam as she turned to looked down at the crowded ally.

"More than I've seen in a herd," Michonne stated.

She walked closer to the edge of the building to look onto the street.

"I wouldn't do that," Sam suggested.

Michonne paused to give her a look.

"The Rotter's are stupid but they are quick to sense. Whether they see well or just smell us, they get riled up when they know where here. We had to spend an extra day hiding because Paul got to close to the edge," Sam explained turning to face the woman.

Michonne seemed to pause then gave the street one last look before standing in the middle of the roof.

"What weapon is that?" Michonne asked, frowning at the sword from Sam's waist.

"Seventeenth century Spanish sabre. I lifted it from this mansion in Helena. It was ransacked of the good stuff, but this was hanging on the wall. It's been more use than any gun I've had," Sam quietly took it out of its sheath and held the pommel out to Michonne.

She seemed to think about her movements before she did anything, but took the weapon and held it expertly.

"It's heavier than I thought it would be," Michonne admitted.

"Spanish weren't stingy with their gold. Pommel is made with it. It a normal world this would be priceless," Sam replied crossing her arms.

"In a normal world we wouldn't be carrying swords," Michonne said.

"Which would be a shame," nodded Sam, "I like to think it sets my outfit off nicely."

Michonne looked at Sam who was keeping a serious face. A corner of Michonne's mouth tilted slightly.

"What about yours? I saw you carrying it on the way here."

Michonne handed the sabra back to Sam, who put it away soundlessly, and watching as Michonne took out her katana.

"You any good with this beauty?" Sam asks as Michonne passes it to her.

"I practiced some. Before…" Michonne says somewhat.

Sam looked at her and nodded once. Running a finger over the sharp blade, Sam was surprised at how sharp it was.

"I think this is a lot easier to wield that a sabre. Might not get dulled as much either," Sam stated. Then handed it back.

"Goes with your ensemble perfectly," Sam stated.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Rick woke with a small start. Sam was stood over him with her finger over her lips. He nodded in understanding and she moved off to wake her niece and nephew. When Rick shifted, it woke Carl who was lying on his arm. Carl opened his mouth, but Rick covered it quickly and shook his head.

Michonne was already awake and was tapping the others up. Daryl woke the easiest, like he was barely sleeping. Tyresse took a little shake. While his group where getting their things together, Paul was getting his weapons loaded.

Unlike Carl, whose make shift silencer did the job but looked strange, his was a proper one. Thomas helped Lucy into her back pack as the siblings sat on the edge of the bed barely keeping their eyes open.

Sam came out of the kitchen with her weapons readied. She tossed a look to Michonne. Rick, surprised at their sudden commeradier, turned to watch as Michonne peeked out of the curtains. A moment later she turned and gave Sam a dark look. Sam took a breath, seemingly thinking for a moment, and gave the signal to wait.

Turning the handle silently, Sam opened the door and quietly tip toed down the staircase. This room was just a windowless box, but it held the door with a heavy bar blocking the access. Lifting it off, as silently as she could, she placed it on the floor with a heave. The door opened easily and she ducked down.

Giving it a few seconds, she poked her head around the door frame and saw walkers walking lazily outside. Sam whistled an almost silent whistle. She was worried they wouldn't have heard, but creaks from the stairs told her they were coming.

She led on into the long room, again using the desks as shields. Turning once she saw the line of people following her. That moment a thought passed her mind for the first time since starting this journey. People's lives were in her hands. Not just her family anymore.

Pushing the thought away, she quickly made her way through the office and into the entrance room. She made sure they were all inside and door closed before this next part. The room was packed and her brothers were stuck between the others.

She tapped the big Tyresse's shoulder and gestured up. Understanding, he bent his knees and cupped his hands. She took off her bow and belt containing her sword and thigh arrow holster and handed them to Michonne. Paul startled at this but she gave him a look. Carl, who was stood next to her, hand her his gun. She gently took it and ruffled his hair, smiling.

Tyresse lifted her effortlessly to the window. Lighter without her weapons, she lifted the window, cringing when it creaked. But yanked it all the way up and hooked it to the wall. She gave a quick look out before squeezing her upper body through. Grabbing on to a pipe above the window, she pulled her legs out.

Lowering herself to the ground was the easy part. The ally way was chained from the streets. Though the dead was on either side of the building they couldn't see or get to them. It didn't make her any less nervous. Ducking next to the trash can, she used her back to push it.

A loud screech sounded. Stopping suddenly, she looked around in fear. The walks, whether they heard her or not, were not responding. There was less than a foot to go. Turning her reached under the rim of the massive dumpster. Using all her strength till she was red in the face, she lifted it way from the door. It wasn't silent, but it was quieter than pushing it on it's rusty wheels.

She tapped the door once. Keeping crouched down, she was look out while they all streamed out. Rick put Carl behind her as he helped the others through.

Sam handed Carl his gun back with a wink. He smiled and looked at the walkers behind the fence. Michonne came up to her and handed her back her weapons before rushing across the way to the corner of the alley.

Putting on her sword and thigh holster, Sam readied her bow and held onto an arrow. Michonne looked back to the waiting crowd before giving a short nod. Paul held onto Theo and Thomas grabbed Bell as they all rushed around the corner.

The noise of their running was unpreventable. Daryl went to one side and Sam on the other. Every junction they came across Daryl and Sam checked before they moved everyone forward. Sam went to turn to look down the last cut through ally when a stumbling walker came up, inches from her face.

But before either the Walker or Sam could move, an arrow bolt found it's way inbetween the eyes. Sam turned to see Daryl lowering his crossbow. She nodded in thanks and peeked back around. There was no fencing protecting them from the walker-infested streets. But they were lucky. There was none that she could see.

They moved to the last block and looked out onto the main street. A few walkers were hanging around, but nothing compared to last time. A few feet from the ally entrance, a walker began to walk across but fell to the floor with an arrow through its temples. Sam pulled another from her holster. Crouching down, they all looked at the street.

Rick could see his jeep, car and motorbike. It wouldn't take seconds to get loaded and get out. Taking down the several walkers between here and there would be easy.

"What the hell happened to the car?"

Sam flicked her head to Paul who looked down the other end, near the town's entrance to their car with their bonnet up and parts strawn everywhere.

Rick followed their gaze. He turned to look at Glenn who looked beyond guilty.

"I didn't know it was their car," he whispered frantically.

Sam rubbed her face.

"We'll take you all in ours," Rick suggested quickly. "We need to get out of this town."

Sam heard shuffling feet behind. There were three walkers coming out of the side ally. She, Daryl and Paul took them down silently.

Sam nodded to Rick and said, "Let's move."

As a group they left the ally and sprinted across the street. Daryl, Sam, Michonne and Rick took down most of the walkers that stood between them. Sam loaded Theo into the back of the car, followed by Paul and herself. She checked to see Lucy, Bell and Thomas get into the back of the jeep as Glenn and Tyresse got in. Tyresse started the car and a loud snap and clang came from the engine.

Rick leaned forward for his drivers seat to stare. Tyresse tried again. Nothing was happening.

"I think the belt is gone," Glenn said suddenly.

Everyone got out except for the Theo. Glenn lifted the bonnet and took a look. He looked like he knew what he was doing as he delved in and pulled out a snapped timing belt. He cursed and grabbed the car anxiously.

"Get everyone into the jeep," Rick said quickly.

"We can't," Carl said, who appeared by his father's side. "Both cars are filled with stuff we got from the store. We can't leave it behind."

"This a bit more important right now-" Rick started.

"Where's yo bag? One with their belt in?" Tyresse asked Glenn.

Glenn thought and cursed again. Turning to look down the road to their abandoned cars. Sure enough, there was the bag with parts beside the car.

"Ya'll best make a 'cision quick," Daryl said in his thick southern lilt. "Can't stay invisible for long."

"I'll go-," Glenn said turning to go, but Sam pulled him to a halt.

"I'm a faster runner," Sam stated. "Just cover me."

Before anyone could answer, Sam sprinted down the street. She was right, she was fast. She reached the car in seconds without breaking a sweat. But her running alerted the walkers though. Walkers from the other streets turned to see her running back to the cars.

She handed the bag over to Glenn who began instantly working on it. Walkers began to appear from both sides of the street. Fanning out, everyone worked to take out the closet ones, giving Glenn time.

"Carl!" Rick shouted.

Sam looked back to see Carl walking closer to the line of walkers like he was Clint fucking Eastwood. Rick was pinned down by the dead on his end, while Michonne and Tyresse had their hands full with the ones coming out of the little alleys, and the forest behind it.

"I got 'im," Daryl yelled before running to Carl, who was still shooting and pulled him to the side of the street.

Sam took out the ones near them. The number of walkers diminished for the moment. But she could hear more coming. She jogged up to Carl and Daryl.

"I had them," Carl snapped, pulling her arm out of Daryl's grip she them the kid say as she get closer. "I don't need anyone's help."

Carl turned away from Daryl and walked up to the shelter store front. Even as Sam ran closer, her blood froze. She recognized that shop.

She screamed, "Carl, no!"

But it was too late. Carl's leg caught the fishing trip wire. A loud air horn blared from the shops speaker system. Followed by a massive smash. A two pronged drop trap crashed through the window and sliced through the flesh of the person stood there.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Like most morning, today started off no different. Hershel go up at the crack of dawn, got washed and dressed before most of the prison residents even woke up. Gripping his cloth wrapped crutches, Hershel stood up slightly unsteadily off the bed. Though losing him leg had by most means complicated his already struggling life, he was thankful.

Thankful to God for allowing him extra time with his daughters, and thankful to Rick for saving his life. But as he slowly made his way down to the cellblock floor, he worried for his close friend and leader. Rick was due back yesterday evening. He had managed to placate the residents about their people's lateness. But if they didn't come back today, he was afraid a decision would have to be made.

"Hershel."

He looked up to see Carol rushing towards him. Her short hair was slightly flat, suggesting she had just gotten up.

"Any news?" Carol asked wrapping her thin arms around herself.

"Nothing," Hershel regretfully sighed, gripping his crutch tighter.

He had stayed up until early morning, barely sleeping, hoping they would come through the gates. But they didn't.

Carol nodded, more to herself then him, and unconsciously stroke the back of her hair down.

"What do we do?" she asked.

"Carry on. Prey that they get home today," Hershel replied, taking a breath before adding, "And if anyone asks, say everything's fine. Just keep everyone busy."

Carol watched him and sighed deeply. Worry lining her face. A metal clang announced the arrival of Maggie and Sasha. They strode into the kitchen area, slowing once they saw Hershel and Carol.

"We just come in from patrol," Sasha said, swinging her rifle to a more comfortable position between her shoulder blades.

Hershel looked at them expectantly, but Maggie shook her head.

"We came to get something to eat and we'll head back out," Maggie added.

"I'm sure Mal or Kelly can take over once they up-," Carol said looking at Maggie's bloodshot eyes.

"No," Maggie interrupted firmly. "I need to be there. I need to be there when they come back."

Hershel lowered his head from her daughters fierceness. Part of them was saddened by the loss of his baby girl. But the bigger part was proud.

An hour later, the once quiet cellblock was a buzz with activity. The kids, like usual, were sat at the tables waiting for everyone to get there. While the adults, talking over there drinks and food, prepared for their days ahead.

Hershel sat in his seat looking over the minor scratches and blisters acquired from working the field, or sunburn from baking under the mid day sun. His crutches leaned against the wall, almost making his forget as he worked through the small line. Beth was sat by his side, feeding baby Judith contently.

Wiping the salty sweat for her forehead, Maggie squeezed her eyes with her thumb and fingers. Sweat had dripped into them. The constant squinting and straining didn't help her tired eyes any. Her back ache from standing most of the day and night yesterday gave her a headache. But she refused to move. Feeling Sasha's pacing form behind her, gave her some strength.

A sound echoed back to them from the distance. Sasha stilled and Maggie readied her shotgun. The noise got louder and louder as it came through the forest. It was the roar of a motorbike. Maggie smiled and turned to Sasha. She nodded and smiled back before whistling for little Mike. A small over eager kid who's parents where killed during the fight with The Governor quickly got up from laying in the grass and ran over to her.

"Run and tell the others," Sasha shouted. "They're back."

Carol was checking on the progress of the children's playground, when she heard the sound she was listening for. Turning to the gate, she saw Sasha and Maggie unlocking the chains around the gates. Running to the top gate, she did the same. The chain slid nosily to the floor. People nearby dropped what they were holding and rushed to help slid the gate open. The elderly man, one who is in charge of the herb garden, grasped her shoulder in happiness. Carol laughed, covering her mouth and watched as the familiar convoy came into view.

But her happiness was short lived. Her smile turned to a frown and her hands dropped to her sides.

"Who's riding Daryl's bike?" she whispered.

"What happened to the hat we gave you the other day?" Hershel asked a young boy. No older than sixteen but determined to prove himself.

"It made me look stupid," he boy admitted.

"And glowing like a firebug doesn't?" Hershel asked.

The boy had the decency to look embarrassed. Not that you could tell, his whole face was red from sunburn.

The boy looked down at his dirt-covered boots.

Hershel sighed and looked at the cupboard near the exit and said, "Take a look in the cupboard there see if there is something more to your liking."

The boy nodded his head, making sure to avoid eye contact and quickly walked away. Hershel looked at Beth who was watching the whole incident and smiled at her father.

A massive crash, from the metal doors slamming open, shut everyone in the room up. Hershel turned to see Rick jogging into the room. His white shirt covered in blood and his face searching.

"Rick?" Hershel said, his heart dropping at the sight of the blood.

"Hershel!" Rick relaxed a bit finally seeing him. "We need you."

People stood around cleared the area as the rest came in. Running boots sounded behind him. Tyresse and Michonne came running in. They cleared the table with wheels, sweeping their hands, pushing everything carelessly to the floor. Glenn and Maggie rushed in holding open the doors. Daryl ran in, holding a deathly white and blood-covered body in his arms. Tyresse and Michonne rushed towards him with the gurney.

"Doc," he shouted, as he put the body on the table.

Hershel snapped into action, picking up his crutches and hoping double time. He followed the three of them as they pushed the table back through the door, passing a tear-streaked face of Carl.

The noise of the rattling wheels on the metal table echoed noisily off the stone walls down the thin passage. Hershel pushed himself to hurry after. Ignoring the shocked faces of the people standing to the side of the corridor and the sweat blooming on his forehead he carried on.

They three of them slowed once the reached the makeshift room they had prepped for Hershel. He followed in and got a proper look at the person laying on the table top. She was young. Maybe late twenties. Her shoulder length dark hair fanned out over the metal. Her face had a waxy sheen to it he knew only too well.

Abandoning his crutches he clung to the table and grabbed a nearby pair of scissors. Daryl pulled his blood soaked Mexican poncho away from her stomach. Cutting away her ruined hoody, leaving her bloodied sports bra in place, he got a look at the damage. Two 2inch punctures were pierced on either side of her abdomen. The edge's looked tacky, but blood still poured out.

"Help me turn her," Hershel said.

Daryl and Michonne grabbed her shoulder, pulling her to the side. Tyresse grabbed her hips. Hershel bent to looking, pulling the hoody off her free arm.

"Clean puncture. Through and through," Hershel said, "Okay."

They placed her back down. Daryl pulled the top off her last free arm. Hershel grabbed the metal table again and lowered his head.

"Why aren't you doing anything?"

He looked to the door and saw a tall, pale faced guy stood behind Rick who watched on.

"This damage is severe," Hershel said in a soft voice. "Even with proper equipment, this type of surgery is risky. It might be a kindness to -."

"Like hell," the man shouted, going to push past Rick who held him back. "You said if we bought her here you would help!"

Tyresse took over from restraining the distressed man. Rick approached the table and pointed to the girl.

"She saved our lives. Saved my son from this fate," Rick said seriously. "We owe her to at least try."

Hershel looked past Rick to another man and woman stood in the doorway. They were holding two children. Both were clinging to the adult's legs, crying their eyes out.

Hershel took a deep breath and folded up his sleeves, giving the restrained man a piercing look.

"Do you know her blood type?"

"She's the same as me and our brother," he said hopefully.

"I need Maggie in here," Hershel announced bring another wheeled table holding instruments closer to the gurney. "Get a chair son, I'm gonna need ya."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

While Glenn and Tyresse were on patrol, the rest of the group from Trenton were sat waiting in the side room, looking through the two way mirror at what was going on next door. Rick figured this room use to be like an interrogation room. They didn't think it would be used like this.

Hershel had been operating on Sam for over five hours. Both Paul and Thomas had given blood but she still looked pale. Paul was stood watching over the bottom of the table like hawk while Thomas was still giving blood, sat at Sam's side stroking her hair. Maggie was stood by Hershel's side.

Sniffs bought Ricks attention back into the observation room. Lucy was cradling a sleeping Theo while a stony face Bell peeked over the mirrored window. She hadn't moved from this position since they began. Michonne was stood near the doorway. Staring at what was going on, leaning on the wall.

Daryl was sat on the table pushed against the wall. He was absently swinging his legs while sharpening his arrowheads. He's demeanor didn't mean that he wasn't watching. His eyes barely left the window. Rick looked over to Carl.

Though he had been sat here the whole time, he didn't once look into the operating room. Inside he sat on Daryl's table, with his legs pulled up to his chin, lost in thought.

Approaching footsteps bought Rick's attention to the door. Carol appeared with a trey of steaming cups. She smiled tightly as she placed the trey on the table next to Daryl.

"How's it going?" Carol whispered.

Though they couldn't hear them next door, no one spoke and when they did they barely raised louder that a soft whisper.

Rick sighed deeply and said, "I can't tell. They closed up her back but other than that…"

"I'm just glad ya'll okay," Carol said, gripping Ricks and Daryl's arms fondly.

"Thanks to her, we got out at all," Daryl said softly.

Carol smiled tightly, and left the room. It was another hour before there was any movement. Rick was leaning against the wall with his hand over his eyes, when a small voice announced, "They've stopped." Bell didn't even turn when she spoke.

Everyone looked up and saw Hershel move away from the table as Maggie finished wrapping Sam's abdomen up. Paul who was sat in the chair was fast asleep from the blood loss. While Thomas had his arm around Lucy, quickly got up and left the room. He appeared back in view as he entered the operation room.

They watched as Hershel spoke to him. Hershel's posture was tired but he laid a hand on Thomas's shoulder before he left. Maggie smiled tightly at him as she went to wake Paul up. Thomas, who never really stopped crying, only broke out in a fresh wave as he approached her other side. Paul seeing Hershel gone, got up quickly. Rick watched as they spoke to one another, both obviously upset.

Hershel came into the room, hoping along with his crutches. He looked down to Lucy and the kids.

"Ya'll can head in if you want," Hershel smiled at them.

Lucy nodded dumbly and carried Theo while Bell rushed out and ran to her bedside.

Everyone else looked at him expectantly.

"I stitched up the internal injures. She had a lot damage to her organs. Lucking the wounds were small and clean. Stitching up was the easy part. But she lost a significant amount of blood. Even with the transfusions, it's not looking good," Hershel explain, shifting on his sore foot.

"What are her chances?" Michonne asked quietly.

Hershel sighed and shrugged lightly, "10 percent. Maybe. If she lasts the night."

Sam did survive the night. And the next one after that. But in the days that followed, not once did she wake up. Her family never left her side. The blood transfusion continued till her color returned and her fever broke.

"The wounds look great. She's healing nicely," Hershel said as took off the soiled bandages. Carol was stood with him this time as Maggie was burnt out. Carol smiled down at Theo and Bell who were sat on the floor drawing.

Paul was stood over her watching, but didn't look appeased.

"Then how come she won't wake up," he asked, agitated.

"She received a massive injury that would kill most people. Her brain is just protecting itself. She'll wake up when she's ready, son," Hershel replied smiling at him. But he never gave one back.

"I need some air," Paul mumbled and walked out.

Hershel lost his smile, his eyes followed him out. Barely missing Daryl who approached the door at the same time. Daryl was primed to shout after him but thought better. It didn't stop the whispered, "Asshole," though.

"I could say that he's not usually like this," Thomas said in a thin voice. "But that would be lying."

"It's been a hard time for you all," Carol nodded and smiled tightly at the brother who was sat in the chair next to the gurney. "I heard you've been travelling across America since the outbreak. Over a year on the road will take it toll."

"Perhaps more for him," Thomas said nodding his head towards the door. "He has a wife and kids back home. He sailed over to pick us up last autumn. But we weren't there. He stayed. Which surprised me."

"How did he know where to find you?" Carol asked curiously.

"Phone lines are down," Thomas said not taking his eyes from Sam. "Satellites aren't."

Carol looked up at Hershel and Daryl quickly.

"Wadda ya mean?" Daryl said huskily.

"We have a satellite phone that Paul used to use in Afganistan. Our group has one back home, Paul's navy friends have one and we have one."

"You mean to tell me son that you've been able to communicate with each other, this whole time," Hershel asked, leaning heavily on the table.

Thomas nodded but added, "It's only at certain times of the week and very short periods. There's no guarantee. Best way to do it is leave messages. That way where ever you are in the world, you still get the message."

"Satellites aren't going to stay up in the sky forever," Carol said.

Thomas nodded, "We're living on borrowed time as it is. Praying that it will last just that little bit longer. Just till we get home."

Thomas was about to say something more, but thought better of it.

Hershel's eyebrows twitched as he watched Thomas clam up, but leant down to rewrap Sam's stomach. Carol struggled to pull Sam's dead weight. Both Thomas and Daryl jumped to help turn her. As Hershel go on one side, Carol rushed around to the boy's side and put a padded bandage over the raw wounds on Sam's back.

Carol nodded to Hershel for the tape. When he handed it over, Carol's eyes caught Sam's back. She paused as her fingers softly glided over the scars and burns on Sam's upper back. Carol's mouth opened slightly. Thomas and Daryl watched Carol stroke her marred skin. Daryl moved to get a better look, while Thomas refused to look.

"Carol?"

She looked up at Hershel, who gave her a small nod to Sam. Carol taped up wounds and they slowly lowered her down.

Carol turned to Thomas, thinking of saying something, but she couldn't. Thomas sat down heavily.

"There were still bad people around before the outbreak," Thomas said somewhat. Going back to look at his big sister.

"Those scars look old," Carol started, unwanted memories of her past life rushed back.

Hershel and Daryl avoided her eyes, but Daryl tenderly touched her shoulder and gave it a small squeeze.

"Our father used to say that she was a clumsy child whenever he got his driver to take her to the hospital at 3 in the morning. None of the staff questioned the constant broken bones, cracked rib and black bruises. Even the cigarette burns."

The silence was heavy in the room. The only noise was the shuffling of the children as they continued to draw. This wasn't news to them.

"What about your mom?" Hershel asked. He had seen the scars during the operation. But over his years as a doctor, he knew better than to ask. Curiosity got the better this time.

Thomas snorted and said. "Why do you think Sam got-."

"Even as a kid Sam always tired to protect all of us," Thomas carried on. "The best times of our childhood where when he was deployed. Months at a time. We were a real family then."

"Father's," Daryl stated gruffly, as he grabbed the crossbow strap on his shoulder and stood in his usual stance. "Hell, Hershel here's the only decent I've met."

"Paul's cornered me again Thomas, I can't-"

Lucy came storming in through the open door and froze when she saw the others stood beside the table. She was carrying a trey of soup bowls for them all.

"Everythin' okay?" Daryl frowned as he straightened.

"Everything's fine," Thomas said, standing up to take the tray from Lucy who gave Thomas an unreadable look.

Daryl turned to Hershel and Carol.

The couple of days following, Rick's group began noticing things. When Maggie, Beth or Hershel went to check on Sam, they always seemed to be interrupting an argument between the two brothers. Lucy, who would be clearly upset, would be with the kids.

Carol came out one evening to see her watching over Theo and Bell as they used the new playground with the other prison children. Lucy startled when she felt someone stand next to her, but smiled nervously.

"Expecting someone else?" Carol asked softly.

Lucy just smiled and turned back to the playground.

"This is the first time in a long, long time I've seen them have fun like this. You guys have something amazing here. You should be proud," Lucy said holding her hair down that was blowing in the wind.

"Came at a high price," Carol said. "And I can't say it will be any easier in the future."

"Some people don't like seeing other's make a good life for themselves. And in this world now, it makes people do bad things. My family tried to make a life like this in Kansas City. We weren't as lucky as you," Lucy admitted.

Carol didn't know what to say, so she just watched the children.

"We can trust you," Lucy suddenly said, turning to look intently at a surprised Carol, "Can't we?"

"Of course," Carol insisted frowning at the upset Lucy.

Lucy opened her mouth to say something, when something caught her behind Carol. Lucy clammed up and smiled dismissively at her before walking over to the kids. Taking Theo and Bell's hand. Carol turned to look behind her. Paul was stood in the doorway looking in her direction.

Sasha and Michonne were in the kitchen area with Daryl and Glenn. They were doing their usual gun cleaning on the large table in there. The metal surface was covered with a grimy white sheet, and parts were strawn everywhere.

Since coming back from Trenton they had been able to continue teaching gun handling without feeling like they were wasting bullets. But they were still careful with how much they used.

As they worked people streamed in every now and then from the fields, clearing out the rest of the prison or patrol to get rehydrated. That's where they were when Thomas came walking in. No one except Michonne paid attention at first. He had a sickly look to him as he approached the quiet Lucy who was sat on one of the table staring into her drink.

Michonne went back to concentrating on the dismantled rifles while they were talking to each other. But looked back up a second later when a piercing screech echoed through the room. Lucy had roughly pushed her chair back, scraping the legs on the floor and stood staring fiercely down at a guilty looking Thomas.

"I won't do it," Lucy snapped, her eyes watering. "I can't."

Lucy stormed out. They watched as Thomas avoided their eyes and chased after her.

It was over a week since Sam's group had been there, when Hershel approached Rick at breakfast. It was one of the rare times he was alone. Hershel sat down heavily opposite him, after checking in on Sam again the moment before.

"Any changes?" Rick asked, pushing his half eaten breakfast aside.

"She healing nicely," Hershel nodded, "No infection and complications. Never thought I'd say it, but I think she's going to pull through."

"But..."

"The coma is not something I can heal. She could be in it for days, weeks, heck even years."

"There's no argument. She has whatever she needs," Rick argued. "If I need to get more supplies, we'll go and get them-"

Hershel held up his hand in defense, "That is not what I wanted to talk to you about."

"What is it then?"

"I've heard whispers and I've walked in on conversations on several occasions. The others have concerns as well."

And Hershel told him what he had overheard.

"What?" Rick whispered astonded.

"What's goin' on?"

Hershel and Maggie looked at the door to Daryl. He was leaning on the frame with his arms crossed.

He jutted his chin to the window and frowned, "What's Rick doin'?"

Hershel turned back to the two way mirror and saw a worked up Rick pacing and facing off against a resolute Paul. The other brother was sat by Sam's side, staring at her face, almost willing her to wake up.

Daryl frowned at the doc's silence. Leaning back, he looked into the corridor to where the young girl and boy sat drawing on the floor.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

It was the noise she noticed at first. The familiar buzz of electric was humming around her. It had been so long since she heard it, it almost felt like she was in bed at home. Before the world as she knew it ended.

It was the stiffness of the cold metal under her that bought her back to reality. Of course her bed at home had been more comfortable. Even had feathered duvet and pillows. Memory's she missed on the long nights on the road.

But Sam wasn't on the road this time. She knew that much. Slowly opening her eyes, it took a few tries. It felt like they had crusted over. Blurry grey greeted her watering eyes. Lifting her left hand seemed more of an effort than she ever felt before. Bring her hand to her eyes, she went to rub her eyes. But was hit with a plastic thing on her finger.

Frowning to her finger she saw one of those heart monitor things. Lifting her other hand, she pulled it off. Something tugged the crook of her arm. Blinking furiously, everything came in to focus. She was in a small square room. There was a long mirror on the left wall while metal shelves holding assorted medical stuff was against the right.

Looking down at her right arm, she saw a taped IV whose bag was hanging upside on a metal stand next to the metal table. But a sleeping form caught her eye in the chair next to the gurney. She stilled when she didn't recognize the woman sleeping there.

She thin, with short grey hair. Her head titled on her hand as her elbow rested on the chair arm. Her breathing was deep. Sam pulled the IV out of her arm. Grimacing as the tape pulled on her sensitive skin. The needle came out easily, but the liquid was still coming out. Putting it on the metal table near her, Sam turned to sit up.

Pain shot up her spine. Gasping, she clutched her stomach. How could she have forgotten. The memory of incident flashed through her mind. She saw the kid, Carl, trip the wire. The wire she discovered the first time they came into town. Clearly whoever was in town before them, thought about safe guarding Trenton for themselves. They just didn't count on the Rotter hoard.

The sharpened prongs of two broom handles came shattering out of the glass fronted door of the shop. She got there just in time to push Carl out of the way. But she wasn't fast enough to get out of the way herself. She remembered nothing after that.

Sam came back to the present and lifted the thin sheet from her body. She wasn't wearing her camo pants and hoody anymore. Instead she wore some grey baggy jogging bottoms and an oversize cami top. She felt incredible underdressed. Pressing a hand to her stomach, she gritted her teeth as she shifted her legs over the edge of the table.

Her head rolled from the sudden change of height. Looking up she looked at the mirror. Her hair was slightly wild looking, but she knew someone had brushed it. Her cheeks looked hollow, but she didn't look tired anymore. Before she was lucky if she got an hour asleep a night.

Letting go of her stomach, which felt tight but the stabbing pain had gone, she massaged her tight leg. As soon as she moved it cramped up. A piece of paper caught her eye. There was a small metal wheelie table next to the gurney. On it was a number of medical stuff, like swabs, gloves and stuff. But her eyes focused on the envelope with familiar handwriting.

Glancing at the wall to her left, she saw dozens of different childrens drawings. For some reason her eyes felt like they were on fire. Turning away from the pictures and the envelope, Sam readied herself to stand up. Grabbing the edge of the gurney, she slowly pushed her bum off.

The cold stone floor greeted her warm feet. Sam lashed her hand out to the wheelie table when her legs didn't hold her weight. Both her and the small table with the envelope crashed to the floor. Pain from her stomach and knees punched through her mind. She was clutching her stomach, when she heard someone.

"Sam!"

The woman who was asleep had rushed around the gurney to her side. She tried to help lift Sam to the table.

"I'm fine," Sam said to the strange woman as they both struggled.

"Stay here," the woman said quickly, "I'll get help." And then ran out

"I don't think I can go anywhere at the moment," Sam mumbled.

She hated feeling helpless. Even more that she didn't know where the hell she was. Her eyes drifted to the envelope. It was in the middle of the littered floor. She slowly grabbed the letter just as she heard running coming towards the open door.

"Perhaps standing up wasn't the best idea," Sam said through a small smile to the people stood at the door.

Rick was stood infront of Daryl, Carol, Glenn and Maggie. Hershel could be heard clopping along the corridor. Rushing as fast as he could. Rick looked down at Sam who was sat in the middle of the fallen objects. His face must have been incredulous as Sam's small smile drooped.

"I think you're as surprised as I am," she said.

Daryl squeezed past Rick, who was still dumbstruck. A movement beside him snapped him out of it. Carl pushed through the small crowd and appeared at his side.

Sam watched as the quiet one from Trenton came up to her. She remembered something as soon as he came closer. She thinks he was with her. Where ever they were.

He was wearing a sleeveless button top and dark trousers. His arms were strong as he lifted his crossbow off his back and placed it on the floor.

"Here," he said gruffly, kneeling down beside her.

Sam gritted her teeth from the pain and the annoyance of needing help and put her arm around his neck. He put her arm under her legs and lifted her as easy as anything and placed her gently on the table.

"Well that wasn't embarrassing," Sam muttered under her breath.

"Don' worry abou' it," the gruff guy, Daryl she thought, said as he stepped away and leaned on the mirrored wall, "You wan' embrassin' you should see me havin to carry short roun' after he has a belly full a wine."

"All right," smiled Glenn in good humor as he came into the room with Maggie holding his hand.

"I can't believe you're awake," Rick finally said coming closer with his arm around Carl.

"That bad, huh?" Sam said, grimacing slightly as she tried unsuccessfully to get comfortable.

"If we put money on you pullin' through," said a white hair bearded man on crutches who came out from behind Carol and Rick. "I would have bet on the other horse."

"This is Hershel," Rick said, smiling to the old man. "He's responsible for puttin' you back together."

"I've never been one with words, so nothing I can say will ever be enough. But thank-you anyway," Sam said looking Hershel straight in the eye.

He shifted on his crutches before reply, "You saved my family. Nothin I can say or do will ever be enough."

"I think we can call it even," Sam said giving him a small smile as she stroked her bandaged stomach.

"How do you fell?" Hershel asked.

"Great," Sam nodded to him, "For someone who has just been skewered."

Something she said made them all look uncomfortably at Rick. She didn't miss the looks nor did she miss the heavy news Rick looked like he was carrying.

"There's, uh," Rick started to say, "there's something I need to tell you."

Sam looked down at her brothers, Thomas's, handwriting on the envelope as she ran her thumb over it.

"They're gone," Sam said softly. Looking up she was Rick swallowing and everyone else watching sadly. "Haven't they?"

Rick struggled keeping eye contact and shifted on his feet.

"It's okay," Sam said smiling softly at him. "It's not the first time I've bitten off more than I can chew. Paul called it my hero complex. I told them after Kansas City that if something ever happened to me, they needed to carry on."

"They only had a short window of perfect weather for sailing across without gps or any of that stuff. We missed last years because of my actions. I would have been more upset if they had to wait another year because of me again."

"It's a pretty shitty thing to do though," Glenn said breaking the silence.

"They have families," Sam replied turning to Glenn. "My brothers and the sailors waiting in Jacksonville. Wife's, babies and kids wanting their dad's back. I couldn't expect them to wait when I have no one waiting for me."

"They're you're family," Rick frowned.

Sam asked seriously, "If you were in their position and you had a chance of going home to your son. Are you all telling me you wouldn't do the same?"

Rick dropped his eyes and tightened his grip on Carl's shoulder.

"If it's okay," Hershel said softly. "I'll like to check her wounds. I'll let everyone know when she's ready."

Sam gave them a small smile as they left.

"Rick? If you please," Hershel said hobbling towards Sam.

She looked at Rick who seemed as though he wanted to say more, but just nodded at her and walked out. Carl stayed a moment longer. Long enough for Sam to wink at him. Carl's lips titled a little. But it was obvious something was bothering him. He followed his father and closed the door behind them.

Hershel came to her side and smiled through his thick beard down to her.

"I had to stop them," Hershel admitted as he gestured for her to lie down.

Sam stopped herself from grimacing as she did.

"They would have carried on regardless of your side of the argument. I'm afraid to say Rick had a few heat words with your Paul before they left," he added.

"I didn't expect to be looked at by a proper doctor," Sam said changing the subject.

"We all had a past," Hershel replied gently pulling up her cami top and unwrapped her bandage. "I'm just glad my pop pushed me into medicine. Didn't really expect to live out my retirement like this."

Sam snorted gently and tried to look at the damage.

"How is it?" she asked after it hurt too much to look.

"It looks great. You'll have to take it slow for a while, but you'll be up and around in no time."

"Seems like it healed quick," Sam mumbled.

Hershel coughed under his breath when she realized something obvious.

"How long?" she asked quietly.

Hershel sighed and covered her stomach back up.

"You've been here for nearly two months. You've been lucky to sleep through most of the healing process…" Hershel said leaning back and looking at her.

"Wow, two months," Sam laughed hollowly. "No wonder they left."

Sam's laughter died when she put her head back on her pillow. She could hear Hershel fidget.

"I'll suggest to the others letting you rest for a bit," Hershel started.

When she didn't say anything, he added, "Is there anything I can get you?"

"I don't suppose there's any chance of getting my stuff back?" Sam replied, her voice sounding oddly disconnected.

"I get one of the girl to bring you them," Hershel answered.

He looked down at her for a few beats more before turning around.

"Thank you," Sam said quietly that he almost missed it. "It may not seem it, but I'm truly grateful to you."

Hershel knew she had a bit more healing to do. But her mind is only just began it's process.

"Get some rest," he said softly.

Listening to Hershel close the door behind him, Sam's thumb traced the letter than was still in her hand. She closed her eyes against the coming tears and let it drop unread to the floor. Turning on her side, away from the mirror, she clutched her stomach and tucked her legs in. Closing her eyes, she listened to the hum. The familiar hum of a past never to return.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

"History, math's, English and some geography. But mostly its just reading through battered school books," said Carl as he randomly tapped his fingers on the stonewall as they slowly walked past.

"Well, it might not be as good as school before. It's still important to learn these things," Maggie answered.

She looked down at the top of Carl's sheriffs hat. It was no secret that Carl didn't like school. But since the trip to Trenton, he was there every morning waiting for class to start without argument. He's attitude had change since that run. They were uncertain whether it was a good thing or not.

"I bet you don't get homework," Maggie added, shifting the items in her arms to a more comfortable position.

"Every cloud," Carl said.

He looked up to Maggie and gave her a smile. She laughed and put her free arm around his shoulders. Giving him a squeezed one armed hug. He looked up expectantly to the open door in the hallway.

As they both automatically looked through the door, they saw the empty observation room. Hershel had emptied it a couple of hours earlier to give Sam her privacy after their conversation.

They both startled when they saw Sam through the mirror window. She was standing, using the wall for support. They gave each other a glance before rushing into the room.

"What are you doing?" Maggie exclaimed, quickly putting Sam's belongings on the gurney.

"Just stretching," Sam said giving the shocked Maggie and Carl a quick grin.

"Pa said you were resting," Maggie said, before going to her said.

"I think I've done enough resting since I've been here," Sam replied letting go of the wall to shuffle on the spot.

Maggie still unsure what to do, stood close by with her hands readied by incase she fell.

"Hey kiddo!" Sam added as she looked up to see Carl.

"Hey," Carl said with a small smile. He looked up to Sam who had slowly began to walk around the room, barely using the wall for support.

She had made one circuit before saying, "I think it looks pretty good, no?"

Carl gave her a full smile, while Maggie looked on anxiously.

"I still think I should call pa," Maggie frowned.

"Where's the fun in that," Sam replied giving Maggie a quick smirk before walking to the gurney.

"Nice," Sam said under her breath as she picked up her belongings.

"They had to cut off the hoody," Carl said walking to the table.

"Not much of a loss," Sam shrugged. "It was getting a bit rank."

Carl touched the pommel of the sabre. His fingers running along the metal work.

"Are you going to go running to Hershel if I get dressed?" Sam asked carefully.

"No," Maggie said giving in, "But I'm staying to help."

"Thanks," Sam said sincerely. Maggie walked up to her a gently rubbed her hand on her back.

Carl was so interested in the sword that he didn't see the two women looking expectantly at him.

"Er, Carl?" Maggie said.

He looked up questioningly and saw them smirking down at him.

"Mind giving her some privacy," Maggie added.

Carl stuttered when he got the meaning, and quickly walked out, closing the door behind him.

Carl looked at the closed door for a beat and then turned leaning on the adjoining wall. He heard the mumbling from behind the door. Making sure that no one in the corridor, he quietly walked to the observation room. Leaning in he saw Maggie carefully undress Sam. Her cami was replaced with a black tank top and her joggers where taken off. Maggie held some belted jeans ready.

The kid didn't think much of what he was doing until he heard someone walk past the door.

"Have you seen Maggie?"

Carl jumped and turned to see Glenn stood at the open door.

"N-no," Carl stammered, before shaking his head and rushing out the door. "I mean, yeah. She's with Sam."

Glenn turned and walked out with Carl who leaned himself back against the wall next to the closed door. Glenn moved to open the door.

"I, uh, I wouldn't do that," Carl said looking down at his shoes.

Glenn frowned down at Carl. But didn't question it, instead he took the wall on the other side of the door.

A few minutes later, both of them shoved away from the wall as the door opened. Glenn opened his mouth to talk to Maggie, but came face to face with a fully dressed and armed Sam.

"Sam!" Glenn said surprised.

"Hey," Sam replied breathlessly.

She walked out a little shakily, but continued on slowly. Maggie came out of the door and Glenn gave her a look. She smiled happily and took his hand. Carl rushed to Sam's side as Maggie and Glenn followed.

"So…" Sam said looking up and down the corridor. "Where to little man? Fancy giving me a tour?"

Carl nodded pleased and started walking slowly down the corridor, never walking faster than Sam's speed. Sam curiously turned her head into the open door of the observation room. She frowned when she saw the two-way mirror into the room she just left.

"Are we in a police station?" Sam frowned, leaning into the open room.

She came out of the room to look at the three companions.

"Not quite," Carl replied. He smiled up to Glenn and Maggie.

"I'm sure you're tryin to fatten us up, Carol," Rick said, smiling kindly up to Carol who was stood over Rick, Tyresse and Sasha as they tucked into their meal.

Carol shrugged her shoulders happily and replied, "Just making sure you don't go hungry."

"I'll have some more, if it's going, ma'am," Tyresse said pleasantly.

"Of course you will. And stop calling me ma'am Tyresse," Carol smiled at him, tipping the saucepan contents on to his plate.

"Sorry ma-," Tyresse started focusing soley on his food, before looking abashed at the older woman. "Sorry, Carol."

Carol winked affectionately at him and turned to the kitchen table. There were only a few stragglers in the kitchen room. Most were outside enjoying the free day. Only a few worked today and it was only patrol.

Rick had watched the prison resident's work tirelessly for weeks, planting crops and clearing out some of the prison before forcing everyone to take a day to relax. It had became a weekly thing and it did wonders for the morale.

"Dad!"

Rick turned his head to his son's shout. He smiled when he saw him excitedly walking along side Sam who was all dressed up and walking. Albeit a bit slow. The other's in the room, stopped what they were doing and watched. Tyresse quickly got up, forgetting about his meal and pulled a chair out for her on their table.

"Sam," Rick said standing up and waited till she walked up to their table. "You're lookin better. Hershel seen you?"

"Not yet," Sam grimanced. "I can't stay in that room any longer. If I keep looking at those four walls, I'm going to go crazy."

"I'm sure it will be fine," Rick said, "Just, take it easy. None of us want Hershel on our backs."

"Gotta ya," Sam said. Looking down at the chair Tyresse was holding. "Thanks. Tyresse, right?"

"Yes, ma'am," he smiled and held the chair while Sam slowly lowered herself into the chair. He walked back to his chair and sat down. Carl joined the table but Glenn and Maggie stood nearby.

"We'll leave you to eat somethin. Go slow," Maggie warned. "You haven't eaten anything solid for two months. We'll just go and give my pa a heads up."

Sam nodded in thanks and watched as the couple went back out of the room. She smiled down at Carl who had been her faithful guide before coming into the room. Though they had only been down the corridor and came here, he filled her in the details.

"So, a prison," Sam said and smiled at Carol who laid a bowl full of stew infront of her. Carol stroked her hair gently before taking the last empty seat at the table. "Interesting location. But I can see the appeal."

"We got lucky, finding this place," Rick said leaning forward on the table. "We paid a heavy price for it though."

Sam watched as Rick reached out to his sons shoulder who smiled tightly at him.

"I suppose it's the same everywhere now," Sam replied lowering her eyes to her meal. The smell was amazing. She didn't realize how hungry so was tlll she smelt it.

"How many people have you got living here?" Sam asked as she slowly tucked into her stew.

"When we first came here there was 10 of us," Rick replied. "We lost a couple, including my wife, taking this place. We had some problems a while back with another group. Lost some people then, but we opened the doors to the other groups remaining survivors."

Sam listened intently and replied, "You're good people. Letting in strangers. The other group, me. Not many people in this day would do that."

Rick watched as Sam struggled eating after a few bites. Sam paled slightly then set the bowl aside.

"Is it alright?" Carol asked concerned.

"It's probably the best thing I've tasted in over a year," Sam smiled apologetically. "My stomach's just not used to it I guess."

"What about your family, back home?" Carl asked curiously.

He had listened to his father argue with her brothers before they left. He knew everyone was curious about her. Especially since finding out about the ship waiting for them.

"The UK fell pretty early on," Sam explained. "They had quarantine zones in the country, away from the cities. I heard from my sisters that they fell barely weeks from the outbreak. But I was already over here by then. Months into my time here, they got messages to me that they left the camp they were in. There were rumors that the Islands around the UK had been cleared. They traveled to the Isle of Wight. They have been there ever since. They have a good life there apparently."

Sam smiled at them before dropping her eyes.

"Paul informed me about your satellite phone. Have you checked to see if they arrived safely? Maggie took it with her to your room," Rick asked.

"Not yet," Sam replied not bringing her eyes up. "Later. I just needed to get out."

"I can take you around the grounds if you like?" Carl said.

"Carl, lets not push it too far okay," Rick said to his son.

"We'll take it slow, but I wouldn't mind seeing more of this place," Sam said brightening up.

"Are you sure?" Rick asked seriously.

"I've been still for too long."

Carl smirked and quickly got up. Waiting for Sam to follow. Carol rushed up to help, but Sam smiled her off. Worry lined her face as she sat back down.

"Not to far, okay Carl?" Rick said giving him a hard look.

Carl sobered up and gave his father a nod. Sam flicked his hat gently and they both walked out.

"I didn't think she'd be up and walking so soon," Carol said worried as she watched them disappeared down the corridor.

"From what I saw of her, she's not one to stay in one place for too long," Rick agreed. "I hope she doesn't push it too far."


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

People paused at they passed them, some even came up to her. Introducing themselves and smiling in thanks. Sam wasn't used to the attention so she just fumbled on and smiled kindly where it was expected.

Once they reach the open door to the outside, she was surprised at how bright it was. She lifted her hand to shield her eyes. Once her eyes adjust, her hand dropped in surprise. But her mouth dropped open in amazement at what she saw.

The courtyard had a few people sat around lounging in the sun, children ran around playing games and laughing. Families, sat talking with friend. Some were putting laundry on the lines hanging across some parts of the yard. Their laughter made her heart constrict tightly. She had never seen anything like it.

"Come on," Carl said enthusiastically leading the way.

Sam slowly followed, her eyes trying to take in everything at once. People out here behaved like the others. But most just smiled and waved. Not wanting to disrupt their relaxedness. Sam smiled and nodded back. Carl walked through the courtyard to the chain link fence. He stood waiting, looking out to the fields.

"My God," Sam whispered.

Sam gripped the fence as she looked out to the field. It was full of rows and rows of crops. Most had already fruited, growing towards the sky or branching across the ground like a hopeful oasis.

"It's amazing isn't."

Sam grimaced when she heard Hershel's voice. Turning she saw him, leaning on his crutches behind her. He had a small smile under his beard.

"Hey, Hershel," Sam said resigned. She squinted against the sun as she waited for his medical wrath. Instead he walked up to the fence next to her.

"I thank God for what we have worked hard for here," Hershel said, fondly looking out to the blooming field. "We've been very blessed."

Sam listened in silence. Hershel turned his head to her and gave her a sincere look.

"I thank God for bringing you to us as well," he said. "Just don't push your body into doing things it used to do yet. For me."

"Okay," Sam said with a smile.

One last smile, he turned and started walking away. Sam gave Carl a wide eye, 'Did I just get away with it' look. He returned it and they headed towards the open gate.

"We can walk down to the front gates if you like. I think Michonne and Daryl are on patrol," Carl suggested.

"That would be great," Sam said. Surprised at how much she wanted to see them, despite not really knowing them.

As they walked down, Sam marveled at how much they had done to the prison. How much it they made it into a home. The hill down to the front gate was steeper than she was expecting and her stomach was starting to pull painfully. She hid it behind a forced smile, when Carl turned to look up at her.

A sheen of sweat covered her forehead, by time they had reached the front gate. There was two people in the fenced off front gate. One of them was Michonne. She turned to see who was approaching the gate. She smirked when she saw Sam approaching.

"Look who it is," Michonne said in greeting as she opened the gate for them. Sam beamed at her fellow sword fighter. Despite only knowing her one night, she liked Michonne. They had bonded over their weapons of choice.

"Any action?" Sam smiled, slightly breathless as she leaned against the guard tower.

"Not much," Michonne replied, with a slightly disappointed accent.

"I guess there's something to be said about quiet days. You need them during chaotic times and crave action when it's quiet," Sam said, wiping her forehead on the back of her hand.

"I would be happy to never have to kill a walker again," the stranger carrying a rifle behind Michonne said.

Sam's eyes flicked to Michonne and at the same time they both thought the same thing. She wasn't craving the action but she knew she could never live a sedate life ever again. Michonne felt the same way. Judging by Carl's little snort, so did he.

A roar in the distance bought their attention to the road leading off into the forest. Michonne and the stranger jumped into action and opened the first gate ready for the Harley that came into view.

Carl stood by Sam's side in the shade of the guard house as Daryl rode past the gate and stopped next to them. His eyes landed on Sam, and he nodded his head as he turned the engine off.

"They let ya out?" Daryl asked.

"Yep. Good as new," Sam replied.

Daryl looked slightly skeptical and Sam added, "Probably not new, but definitely okay…ish."

He snorted softy under his breath as Michonne opened the next gate for him. Sam looked at the hill she would have to go back on and her stomach jolted in pain. She must have been showing it because Daryl cleared his throat.

"Hop on," he said turning his engine back on.

"You okay going back," Sam said running a hand over her bandage unconsciously.

"I got him," Michonne said, putting a hand over his shoulders. Carl looked up to Michonne, then nodded to Sam. Giving her a reassuring smirk.

Sam walked over to the bike. Looking at it apprehensively, Daryl held his hand out to steady her. She took it and gave it a squeeze in thanks before lifting her leg over and taking a seat behind him. Taking hold of his leather jacket Sam held on, ignoring the pain, as they drove up the hill.

Not noticing before, but there was fresh kill tied to the side of the bike. Rabbits and squirrels. She wasn't squeamish. Not in the slightest. Hunting was something she devolved a taste for as a child.

They drove through the open gate at the top and he turned left, passed the playground and into a small car park that had been turned into a makeshift garage. Glenn and another guy was bent over a car hood.

"Thanks for the lift," Sam said, holding his shoulders as she got off.

"Any time," Daryl said.

"Maybe once I'm more healed, you can show me a decent hunting grounds," Sam asked as he reversed into a space.

"Ya hunt?" he said, not keeping the surprise out of his voice.

"Yeah. My uncle taught me as a kid. Didn't know how much I missed the freedom of hunting until I saw your catch."

"Yeah," Daryl agreed, giving Sam an assessing look. "Nothin like it."

Sam smiled and turned to Glenn. He was elbow deep in the engine with the teen boy holding the torch at the wrong spot. The teen's attention was focused on a group of girls sat at a nearby table. Their eyes and giggles shooting in his direction.

"Kane," Glenn said exasperated. "I need the light where I'm working."

"Sorry," Kane replied quickly before shining his light. A new wave of giggles threatened to steal his attention.

Glenn sighed and took his hand out of the engine, "I think we're done for the day."

"Really?" Kane asked hopefully.

"Sure, go ahead."

Kane clapped a hand on Glenn's shoulder and ran off towards his friends.

Daryl took over Kane's spot, with his catch slung over his shoulder. He squinted into the engine.

"Still having trouble with the alternator?" Daryl asked.

"The battery's not charging as well as it should be," Glenn sighed, adding under his breath. "I wish Dale was here."

"If I had a dolla' everytime you said that," Daryl said, hitching his catch higher up his shoulder.

Glenn sighed and nodded.

"Is the belt the right size?"

Glenn looked at Sam. Surprise flicked across his features. "Uhm, it's as good as it going to be."

"If it's too tight, it might create friction. Then the alternator struggles providing electric to the water pump, and radiator fan let alone managing to recharge the battery," Sam explained peeking into the engine.

"If it's too loose, then the belt is spinning away, wasting excess battery trying to keep grip of the belt."

When no one replied she looked up to see Glenn and Daryl staring at her.

"I was a mechanic for a while, before," Sam explained. Before the outbreak she slightly got off at the shocked faces of men who didn't expect her to know anything about cars.

"Thank you God," Glenn shouted slightly, as he lifted his face to the sky.

"Look's like she saved your sack," Daryl said to Glenn.

"Can you help me," Glenn asked.

"Sure," Sam smirked. There was still pain in her stomach, but the chance to actually do something useful over ruled her pain.

"Lemme drop these off, and I give a hand," Daryl added, motioning to his stringed catch.

The next few hours went with a blur of grease and parts everywhere. She was covered in oil smears by the time Glenn closed the hood. Daryl wiped his hands on his trousers before getting into the car.

"Come on, baby," Glenn said, biting his dirty nail anxiously.

They heard the engine tick over and the next second it roared to life. Glenn laughed and clapped. He turned to Sam and gave her a hug that took her by surprise. Sam smiled at a smirking Daryl as he got out of the car.

"Dint think this dinosaur would live again," he said, as Glenn let go and walked to the open door.

Daryl came up to Sam and they turned to see Glenn behind the drivers seat. He was smiling his head off as he reeved the engine. Daryl shook his head at him and looked at Sam out of the corner of his eye. Sam was happy, but the stomach hurt something shameful.

"You okay?" Daryl turned, frowning at her.

"Yeah," Sam breathed, nodding her head at him. "Just tired myself I think."

"We're heading in," Daryl shouted over the engine to the over excited Glenn. He caught what was said and turned the engine off. It was getting dark and everyone had disappeared over an hour ago. They entered the prison and walked together into the kitchen area.

Sam looked at all the people in the room. They were pulling tables together and setting places. Carol was conducting everything while, Hershel and a baby-carrying blonde oversaw the cooking.

Carol saw the three of them standing in the doorway looking in confusion. She smiled at them.

"You need to go and get ready," Carol shouted over the noise.

"Ready for what?" Daryl frowned.

"For dinner," Maggie said quickly coming up to them like it was nothing special. She smiled at Sam and nodded her head for her to follow. Sam gave Daryl and Glenn one last look before following. People cleared enough room for her to walk through. Maggie lead the way through a barred jail gate and they came into a two floored cell block.

There were people in here also, but not as many. Mostly it was mother and the elderly getting the children ready and brushing their hair. Maggie led the way to an empty cell on the first floor. It held remnants of a previous occupant.

"Most of the families have moved into the next block. Though they still eat here, it's giving them space to branch out. We have some quiet back in here now. I thought this cell would be good for you," Maggie explained.

"Usually everyone gets washed in the washrooms, but it's a fair walk, so I bought a basin up for you. Just pull the curtain across for privacy."

Maggie turned to leave until she suddenly spun around, "Oh. And I've left an outfit out on your bed. It's the first day of harvest tomorrow so tonight's meal is a bit special. Everyone's dressing up. I hope you like it."

Sam soaked up all the rushed information quickly before looking at the black material sat on the bottom bunk.

"Do you need any help?" Maggie asked, quickly thinking.

"No," Sam said quickly. "I'm fine. Honestly."

"Ok," smiled the flustered Maggie. "It's starting in an hour."

Sam watched her spin back around and run back into the busy room. Sam pulled the curtain aside gently and turned to her new room. She didn't think she would be happy to be back in a cell.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

The noise had slowly ebbed away within twenty minutes after her being in the cell. She heard shuffling in the cell block and murmurs of people getting ready. Using the basin, which was filled with warm water, Sam managed to wash her body and hair.

The black material turned out to be a dress. Something she hadn't worn in a long time. Without thinking, she pulled it on over her wet hair. It was tighter than what she would have picked. A simple black dress with spaghetti straps, plunging neckline that pulled in under the breast and a length that cut off above the knee.

A towel was laid out for her on her bed and she was absently drying her hair for a while. Trying to force her eyes to ignore her backpack beside her bed with an envelope resting on top. She knew it was hopeless.

With a sigh, she threw down the damp towel and picked up her backpack. Roughly unzipping it, she peered inside. Sure enough, there was the satellite phone and its solar power charger. Getting up to the small table against the wall, she set the phone and the letter side by side. Leaning over with her hands on the table she stared at the two items.

This was how she was when someone approached her cell entrance.

"How's it goin' in there?" a gruff voice announced.

Sam snapped out of her daze and looked into the cracked mirror above the table. Her hair was dry though it could use a brush through. In bare feet, she walked across the cell and pulled back the curtain.

Daryl was outside looking to the side, chewing on the inside of his mouth, clearly focused on something else. His dark hair was slightly longer than what she remembered at Trenton. It came over his forehead but he must push it aside and came down the sides of his face and the back of his neck.

He was also dressed up which surprised her. She wouldn't have though he'd care about something like this. But his black shirt was clean and crisp and hung nicely off his strong yet lean frame. His dark washed jeans were haphazardly tucked into his black boots. By meaning to or not, he looked great.

Sam smiled when he still didn't notice her.

"Hey," Sam said.

"Hey, Carol was wonderin' if you wer-"

Daryl turned to see her stood in front of him. He looked taken aback, whether it was because she had snuck up on him or because of the way she looked she didn't know.

"Are you-," Daryl started then cleared his throat and frowned, lowering his eyes. "You ready?"

"I just need to finish off," Sam said before turning around and going back in the call. "But you don't need to wait."

"It's fine," Daryl said, watching as she sat down heavily and pulled on her boots.

"How's the stomach?"

Sam turned away as she reached for her brush.

"Good. Found some painkillers left on my bed from the prison cell fairy so they did they job," she replied, running a brush through her hair.

"Don think the prison fairy would leave painkillers," Daryl gruffly replied, leaning against the cell wall. "Meth maybe."

Sam laughed a little and looked up at him. He half smiled down to her before looking away. Standing up, she put the brush on the table. She paused and looked at the envelope before turning her back and walking towards Daryl.

He caught the look and noticed it lying unopened but never said anything. Instead he stood aside and walked instep with her. They reached the cell doors, when Sam paused.

"S'up?" Daryl frowned.

The noise of next door had gone up now that she was stood outside the kitchen area. She was never very good with crowds and people. Never really got the chance to make friends growing up so meeting new people, unless being chased by a hoard of rotters, got her a little nervous. And she hated being vulnerable.

"I'm not that great in social circumstances. Maybe they won't miss me tonight. You could tell them-" Sam started, keeping her eyes on the shadows cast of the prison wall from all the candle light inside the kitchen area.

"Woah," Daryl interrupted. "If ya'll not goin', I'm sure as hell not goin-"

"Small room, lots of people. I generally avoid things like this if I can help it," Sam said quickly, pretending he never said anything.

Daryl argued gruffly, "You were okay in that small room in Trenton. All those walkers surroundin' us?"

"That's different. I'm allowed to kill walkers. There weren't as many people, I wasn't locked in a prison and I was armed," Sam hissed quietly.

"Here."

Daryl said handed his little switchblade from his pocket to her. She took it and looked at him.

"Where the hell am I going to put this?" Sam asked incredulously, as they both looked at the tight black dress she was wearing.

"If you're hidin' it somewhere private, don' do it front of the kids," Daryl replied raising his eyebrow at the dress.

"Stop," Sam smirked, punching him lightly on the arm. Which earned her another small smile.

Daryl sobered said sincerely, "You're gonna be fine. Besides, it's not that many people. If you need some air just go outside."

Sam gave him a long look before sighing.

"Can I have my knife back?"

"No," Sam said shoving it down her cleavage into her bra. "I'll give it back when this is all over."

"Fine. Just don' kill anyone."

"No promises."

They both walked into the packed room. Sam stalled a little at seeing everyone watching her as she came in. But Daryl gave her a little shove and she was walking again. He took over and led her to their seats. Despite cleaning up well, she couldn't help but to notice the red do-rag in his back pocket.

All the tables that would usually be dotted around, were connected in to a massive long table. Rick was sat at the far end with Hershel and Carl either side of him. There was an empty seat next to Carl and one opposite next to Beth, who was sat next to her father. Carl smiled to Sam and pulled out the seat for her.

"Thanks," she said under the breath and sat down. Glenn clapped her lightly on her back. Looking up he smiled at her then put his arm around Maggie.

Hershel stood up and the chatter around the room fell silent.

"In the bible, it says that God only gives up what he knows we can bare," Hershel said, everyone's attention on him. "And we have had a lot to bare these past days. We have lost parents, brothers, sisters, children and friends. We've lost our very existence as we once knew it. But it has made us stronger. We come out fighting and we will continue to fight because if we give up, we give up not just our lives, but the lives we have lost and their very memory. Together we will get through these dark days and the many more to come, and live out to see a better world. And I think we've already started on that path. What we have created is amazing. Not even I expected as much in this new world. Together we form a bond stronger than that of anything stalking us outside those gates. We become a family. Tonight we celebrate that. We celebrate family."

Hershel looked down the table at everyone. Then he leaned forward and picked up his full glass of red wine. Nearly everyone at the table followed suit. Sam looked at her red liquid. Following the same motion as the other she picked it up and raised her glass.

"To family," Hershel toasted.

"To Family!" everyone echoed happily and drank from there glass.

"Family," Sam whispered under her breath. Lifting her glass to her lips she tipped her head back and drank the whole lot. Swallowing, she breathed out heavily and set it back down.

She raised her eyes to Beth who was smiling at her father. Daryl was slouching back in his chair. His eyes caught hers as he also swirled an empty glass.

The food had been great and the atmosphere was better than she thought it would be. Most of the people left after the food, families with children and the elderly going to bed. Only a handful remained and they moved up to sit together. Tyresse, Michonne, Maggie and Glenn, Daryl, Sam, and Sasha. Empty bottles of wine littered the table were they were all sat.

"She comes walking up to the fence covered in guts, and they all think she's one of 'em. Too bad they're all to stupid to realize she carrying a freaking shopping basket," Glenn struggled to tell the story through his wine drunk laughter.

But he wasn't the only one. They were all laughing at there anecdotes they were telling. The wine clearly making it even more hilarious.

"It's worked didn't it," Michonne announced smiling.

"Better than what Andrea did, holding the thing the end of a stick," smiled Glenn. The introduction of Andrea to the story sobered people up a bit. But it was a fond recounting.

"Andrea was the only person I knew who was brave enough to say the thing everyone feels," Michonne said fondly.

"Say what?" Sasha asked drinking the last of her wine.

"That she enjoyed it," Michonne said softly. "She enjoyed killing the walkers."

"No one else feels that way," Sasha snorted, before noticing the silence that fell on the group.

"You all feel that way?" Sasha asked surprised. Everyone just looked at each other without speaking. Sam looked at Daryl who was now sat opposite her and was leaning his elbows on the table. He looked at her before raising his eyebrows.

"I never feel that way," Sasha said slurring her words slightly. "I just feel sad."

"I feel angry," admitted Michonne.

"I feel horny."

Sam jerked to look at Glenn who was nodding his head unashamedly while everyone went into hysterics.

"It's the endorphins," explained Sam with a smile.

"You get that way too?" Sasha screamed laughing.

"It's a chemical high. It's responsible to feeling horny, or angry or even enjoying it. Being horny is kinda the best out of the three, no?" Sam added as everyone started laughing again.

Tyresse argued, "Glenn her has a beautiful fiancé. What about the rest of us? Sam. You traveled across the country with your family. It's not that easy for the ones that don't have anyone."

Sam lost a bit of her smile when he mentioned her family. But for some reason her eyes found Daryl's again. Those hooded eyes locked on to hers before Sasha broke the connection.

"At least you men can take care of yourself," Sasha bellowed drunkenly.

This set of more sniggered and laughs before the wine high wore off. No one moved for a few minutes. They just each enjoyed the good night and good company for that minute more. Trying to savior the memory.

"I guess we had better get on," Maggie said turning to Glenn, who was struggling to keep his head up.

"I might need a hand," she said in fauxpride at her drunk boyfriend.

"Knew it would happen'," Daryl said getting out of his chair and walked over to Glenn.

Glenn, who was keen on falling asleep where he sat, was half dragged and carried away by Daryl. Maggie followed with the candle. Sam watched but turned when there was a massive crash. She saw that Sasha's chair was empty. Leaning back, she saw her on the floor with a look on her face that said, 'how the hell did that happen'.

Sam looked at Tyresse and Michonne a spilt second before they burst out laughing again. Sam got up at the same time as Tyresse. They both helped her up and she walked easily down the table.

"I got it. She's next to me," Michonne said taking over from Sam with her candle in her other hand.

Sam watched as they left and turned to find herself alone. Part of her wanted to be helpful and clear away the tables. But stood in the glowing candlelight, she didn't want to evening to end.

Sitting back in her seat, she poured out another glass of wine. She was already on her second glass when she heard someone come in.

"Wan' company?"

"Sure," Sam said, looking up at Daryl who took the seat next to her, shifting it so he faced her slightly. He poured himself a big glass and slouched back.

"Never thought I'd see a drunk grown man being carried to bed in a prison," Sam said smiling into her drink.

"Sad part, it ain't even the firs' time," replied Daryl.

Sam laughed and lifted her feet on her chair bringing her knees to her stomach. There was no pain. She didn't know if it was due to the alcohol or the pills.

"Thanks for convincing me to come to this," Sam said swirling her drink. "I enjoyed myself surprisingly. Are you glad you stayed?"

"Miss out on seein' everyone pissed outta their minds," Daryl said pulling a face. "It was worth carryin' shor' round to bed."

"I'm surprised you ain't in bed. Bin a long day," Daryl said huskily.

"I'm not to keen on the idea of sleeping in a cell again," Sam admitted.

"Again?"

Sam turned her head to see Daryl watching her with a frown.

"Long time ago," Sam said. "If it makes you feel safer it was ruled as self defense."

There was a brief silence before Daryl said softly, "Your Pop's?"

Sam quickly looked at Daryl.

"Your brother mentioned somethin'," he added.

"My brother has a big mouth," Sam mumbled, breathing out heavily through her nose.

"What happened?" he asked.

Sam ran a hand over her tired face.

"Ya don' have ta tell me if ya don'-" he added gravely.

"He hit my little brother."

Sam put the empty glass down and leaned her elbows on the table.

"I managed to keep it from them for years," she added turning her head to Daryl. "I came home late one day and the house was too quiet. I found Thomas passed out on the living room floor. My dad had hit him so hard he hit the table corner. Blood everywhere."

"He came in the room screaming at me ad I guess I just lost it."

Sam turned away from him and focused on the dying flickering candle. The rest had burnt out that only a few remained.

Sam pushed her chair back and carefully picked up a candle.

"Night," she said, walking past him and through the cell block gate.

She didn't know why she told him. People treat her different once they find out about her past, she should have known this wouldn't be any different. Striding into her cell, she put the candle on the table.

Leaning on the wood, her eyes found the phone. Bubbling emotion threatened to struggle her, she felt like screaming. Instead she lashed out at the phone. Swinging her arm that her hand connected with the plastic. It flew through the air and smashed against the wall.

Sam turned around and stopped when she saw Daryl stood in the open door. He obviously saw what happened, but glanced down at his fingers.

"Ya did the righ' thin'," Daryl said so softly it sounded like gravel.

"I wish my brother was there for me, the way you was for yours," he added, looking significantly at her.

Sam nodded gently and walked closer to him. He gave her a quick small smile and turned to leave.

"Wait," Sam said, gripping the metal bar of her open door.

"I don't think I have thanked you yet."

"For wha'?" he asked, turning back to her.

"Trenton."

He frowned at her. Sam looked down before reply.

"I remember bits. I mostly remember you. Talking to me in the car. You held on enough for the both of us. I sure as hell wasn't-" Sam struggled to finish the sentence.

"Any one would have done it," he said.

"Still," Sam nodded, "Thanks."

Daryl stared at her for a few beats before replying, "Ya welcome."

Sam closed her cell door and smiled softly to him before turning away and falling onto her bottom bunk.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 10

They were hiding with a small room. Theo clung to his big sister, Bell. They were covered in dirt and grime. The door that was closed infront of them was groaning under the weight of the rotters. They pushed their feet against the wall, trying to get further into the wall.

"Belly," Theo whispered in pure fear.

"Shhh," she hissed.

The door suddenly stopped moving. They stared at it. Bell shifted her body and the door splintered open. Undead hands clawed at them. Theo yelled for his sister as he was ripped from her hands. Bell screamed a curdling scream. A rotter bit down on her flesh.

Sam woke up gasping from breath. Sweating and shaking uncontrollably. She was stilled wearing the black dress from the night before. Wiping her face, she got up. The cold floor chilled her warm feet. The cellblock was lightening up a bit, as dawn light came from the high windows.

Pulling the curtain closed, she got dressed in her jeans and black tank top. The jeans were slightly big and the belt gripped on to her hips. There was a sliver of skin between the jeans and the top. Or in Sam's case. A sliver of white bandage. Pulling on her weapons she left the cell and walked through the block.

Looking over her shoulder she saw a few blanket curtains still drawn. More however were open. As she got into the kitchen area, everything had returned to normal and the washing had been done. The area was empty as she walked through and down the corridor.

She welcomed the silence. It was nice after the nightmare she had. She had never been a good sleeper. But add alcohol to the occasion she always gets bad dreams. The doors to the courtyard was already open and the cool morning air felt great on her skin.

Looking in the distance she could see people moving around on the fields. Working before the sun gets to hot for them to be out sweating under it. Reaching the fields, Sam watched them work. There were armed people walking across the fenced perimeter.

Turning past the children area, she came up to the garage area. It sat exactly the way it had been the night before. Pulling off her bow and sword, she set them aside nearby and opened the car's hood. There were other vehicles aswell as Daryls bike. She got stuck in.

"Sam?"

"Yeah?" her muffled reply came

Glenn looked down at the feet that were stuck out from under the jeep. They showed no signs of moving.

"Where you up to?" he asked leaning into the open hood.

"This exhaust needs patching. It's sounding like a freight train when I started it up. Hey, can you pass me that torch?"

Glenn looked to the tools that were lying on the floor. He kneeled down and passed it under the car.

She had managed to put the car on they wooden ramp, giving her maybe two feet of working room.

"So what are you patching?" Glenn said, sliding under a bit to see.

"See this hole? That's what's making the noise. The fumes whistled through the pipe turning it into a freaking flute or something. Hold this, there."

They worked together patching the holes on the exhausted will scrap metal. They didn't even hear the people approach the car until someone tapped her foot. She turned off the torch and both Glenn and Sam took their goggles off. Sam lifted her head to looked down towards the foot of the car. She saw three pairs of feet.

Sam shuffled down, and popped her head out from under the car to see Rick, Hershel and Daryl looking down at her.

"Hey, guys," Sam said squinting at the sun.

Daryl shifted his cross bow to his shoulder and held out his hand for her.

"What's up with the Jeep?" Rick frowned, putting his hands absently on his hips as he looked in the engine.

Sam grabbed Daryl's hand and got up.

"You kidding? You couldn't hear the noise?" Sam frowned, wiping her sweat off her brow with the back of her arm.

"Sorry," Sam grimaced when Daryl looked at his hand to see it greasy.

"We patched the holes," Glenn said leaning on the open drivers door. "Here."

He got in and started the car. Instead of roaring to life, it purred softly.

"Quiet might be a good idea after Trenton," Sam added turning to Rick.

"Good idea," Rick said. "You take a look at the others, aswell?"

"Yeah," Sam said, looking at the other cars with greasy hand prints on them. "Most of it was cosmetic. Few parts needed tighting and greasing up. There good to go."

"Good. We're going on a run in an hour," Rick said, nodding to Glenn. "We'll need the jeep and car."

"If you need a hand," Sam said hopefully. "I'm a pretty good shot."

Rick smiled and nodded, but was interrupted by Hershel.

"I think it might be a bit too soon," he suggested then looked down at her stomach.

Sam frowned and followed his eyes.

"Shit," she muttered, lifting her top up to see her bandage. There was a bloom of red seeping through.

"I though it had healed up," Sam said looking at Hershel.

"Could be that it's just caught and pulled the skin. Stomach wounds tend to be a bit unforgiving. Bending and moving all the time, it doesn't allow the skin to knit together as fast as anywhere else. I'll meet you in the op room to change the bandage."

"Great," Sam mumbled, watching Hershel hop away.

"Next time, Sam. I promise," Rick smiled apologetically and walked off with Glenn.

"You look at my bike?"

Sam pulled a face and looked a Daryl.

"I know better than to touch a man's bike," she said looking over at the Harley next to the jeep.

"Looks in good condition though," she added making sure her stomach was covered. "You take care of her well."

Sam turned to walk away before Daryl called out, "Why are you in such a hurry to get out? Nothin out there worth hurtin for."

"You're a hunter," Sam said turning to him. "You should know what it feels like being out there. Even with the rotters, or walkers. Whatever you call them. Before the outbreak you never had this much freedom. Why would anyone want to stay locked away?"

Daryl chewed his cheek as he thought on her words and watched as she walked across the courtyard and disappeared inside the prison.

After getting redressed by Hershel, she joined him as he walked out to the courtyard. Rick, Daryl, Michonne, Tyresse and Glenn were loading up the vehicles. Sam felt stupid standing on the sidelines.

"I hate being left behind," Carl said, coming up beside Sam.

"It sucks," Sam said, watching the group. "You're not going with them?"

"No," Carl said darkly. "I've been grounded until further notice."

Sam glanced down at the kid as he stared at them get in their cars. Rick gave his son a last look before signaling to open the gates. Daryl led the way, followed by the Jeep then car.

"What's your plan for today?" Carl asked Sam.

"I guess I was going to help out with the harvest," Sam said. "Hershel put the brakes on that."

"Nothin' to strenuous, Sam," smiled Hershel at her side. "I know you want to help. But not at the cost of your health."

"What about if she comes with me on patrol?" Carl suggested to him.

Hershel seemed to dislike the idea until Carl added, "There is only ever a few walkers. I promise I won't let her do anything. Please?"

"Okay. Okay," Hershel smiled in resignation. "You can patrol with Carl. But Sam, I'm serious. Nothing too much. We have a deal?"

"Deal," Sam said, trying not to feel elated about getting away from the prison. Even if it's only down the drive. Hershel gave her a stern look before he walked back into the prison.

"Ya hear that," Sam said happily in a southern accent. "Freedom, son."

Carl laughed and led the way to open gate.

The happiness of being out wore off around the fifth walk around. The heat had notched up what felt like a thousand degrees. Even the harvesters had retreated back into the cool prison. Carl, not once showed signs of tiring. Most of the time they never bothered with killed the few walkers. But when things got boring the Patrols would take them out to make things interesting.

But they couldn't leave the bodies rotting outside the fences. They had a small burning pit just inside the forest where they would get rid of the corpses. Sam and Carl where just about to leave the tower for another lap, when Sasha came out of the guard room. She looked a little worse for were from last night.

"How's it?" she nodded to them as she waited for the young man who came walking down the drive.

"Feeling rough?" Sam smiled.

"Rough is what I felt this morning. It's way past that now," she said, swallowing.

"If this kid doesn't hurry the heck up, I'm gonna shoot him," Sasha added, looking Kane as he came strolling towards the fence.

"Good morning," Kane smiled as he walked through the slightly open gate.

Sasha glared at him and slammed the gate closed behind her. Kane looked taken aback as he locked the chain up.

"What's her problem?"

"Wine," Carl replied.

"Ah."

Kane turned and approached his friend stood at the gate. They laughed and talked between themselves as Sam and Carl continued walking on. Getting halfway, Sam heard a gunshot.

"S'okay," Carl said, when Sam quickly turned her hand on her sabre. "Those guys always kills the stragglers."

"Isn't it a bit risky?"

"I guess, but we barely seen any walkers here since the fight with The Governor."

When they reached the gate again, Kane asked is they could help keep lookout as they shifted the bodies.

"Do you think Hershel would mind?" Carl asked.

"You could use an extra pair of eyes," Sam shrugged. "Besides if I see anything, I get my body guard to get them."

Sam elbowed Carl.

Taking out her bow, forcing herself to push the niggle thought in her mind about how heavy it had gotten, and stood on one side of the road looking into the forest. Carl was on the other side as Kane began to drag the bodies down a little footpath. His buddy stayed at the locked gate.

It took him a while to get all the bodies into the forest fire pit. Kane was visibly sweating as he dosed the bodies with lighter fuel and threw a lit match in. They had been so focused on the fire, that they didn't hear something moving in the undergrowth.

"Shut up," Sam whispered to Carl and Kane who had been talking. She ducked down and turned towards the noise.

"What is it?" Carl whispered coming up behind her. Kane checked around and looked up to the guarded gate. Whatever signal he gave, made his friend shout to the person in the guard tower. Both of them aimed their guns in their direction.

Sam crept forward, inching further into the bush. Something was moving. And it wasn't a walker. It was going too fast. They were spread out looking forward when something big and hairy burst from the bush. It charged straight for Kane. Its gnarled tusks aiming for his legs.

Sam reached for her sabre and lifted it over her shoulder. Throwing it with all her might it struck home in its skull. The wild boar skidded to a stop inches from where Kane was crawling along the floor.

"What the fuck!" Kane shouted. His eyes wide as they took in the dirty, black matted hair beast.

"Oh, man. That was awesome!" Carl cheered and turned to Sam.

"Sam!" he shouted running to her side.

Sam was bent over, clutching her stomach. In absolute agony she stumbled towards a tree, throwing up on its roots.

"Oh, crap," Sam stuttered, wiping blood from her mouth.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

"I feel fine, now," Sam insisted as she lay on the gurney in her least favorite room in the prison.

Hershel ignored her and gently pressed his fingers into her stomach. There was no pain unless he pressed to close to the healing wounds.

"Most probably been a blood clot from the internal stitches I did," he said frowning.

"Is that bad?"

"No, no. They're harmless. Usually you pass them once they have dislodged from the skin that's forming over the stitch," Hershel replied, pulling her top down and took a seat next to her table.

"I'm sorry Hershel," Sam said guiltily. "I said I wouldn't push it. I didn't think there would be any problem standing guard."

"It can't be helped. Boars are vicious and territorial. This is the first one we've seen around here. They must be traveling further away from their dens. It wouldn't have had a problem attacking a group of human."

"At least we'll get a nice meal out of it," Sam shrugged.

"I dare say we will," Hershel smiled. "I just need you to take it easy for the rest of the day."

"No problem. I'm all boar-ed out," Sam replied.

"Good."

Sam hopped off the table and headed out. Walking through the prison, she focused on her injury. It hadn't hurt at all today. If it wasn't for the blood she would have felt great. It was a stark reminder.

"Do not bring that thing in here."

Sam looked up to Carol who was holding baby Judith and looking dismayed at the dead boar.

"I thought it would be good to eat-" Kane and his friend said, huffing from the weight.

"I know that," Carol pulled a face. "But you need to gut and skin it. You are not doing that, we eat in here."

"Gut it?" Kane asked, curling his lip at the boar.

"Leave it outside for Daryl," Carol sighed.

When she saw Sam she rolled her eyes and turned back to the cradle with Judith. Sam smiled and walked through. Once she was in the silence of her cell she relaxed on her bed.

Despite the adventure of the day, as soon as she lay on the bed, the memory of the nightmare came flooding back. Sitting up, she grabbed her open backpack and pulled back the hidden compartment lining. There was a battered sketchbook and a wooden box of knife sharpened pencils.

She was almost hesitant at opening it, but she took a breath and flicked through. Looking at her intricate sketches of her family. Her hand stilled on a picture of Theo and Bell. They were laughing at something Sam couldn't remember. Closing her eyes, she flipped to an empty page and began sketching.

"I think this is yours."

She had been sketching for hours before she realized it was getting dark outside. Looking up to see Rick stood in her cell holding her sabre, she smiled. Putting her sketchbook aside, she took the sword.

"Thanks."

"Apart from the wild boar, how was your day?" Rick asked.

"Great. Fresh air and a bloody kill is all a healing girl needs."

Rick smiled and flicked his head to the book.

"You draw?"

Sam nodded and closed her book.

"I'll let you see when it's finished. How was the run?"

Rick sighed and said, "Uneventful. Dissappointing. We hit a town further away, but it had already been cleared out."

"What were you looking for?"

"We're running low on medical supplies. We have another pregnancy. We are just getting everything ready. I don't want to lose this mother."

Sam didn't need to ask as Carl already told her about his mother.

"Dinner's nearly ready, if you're hungry," Rick added before leaving.

Sam was tempted to get up. She really was. But truthfully she didn't think her mood would improve with an audience. All she could think and hear was her niece as that scream. She closed her eyes and tried to push it out of her mind. But it was stuck.

Hearing someone quietly enter her cell, she opened her eyes. Daryl was turning to leave quietly.

"Hey," Sam said.

"Thought you were asleep," he replied turning back to her.

Sam smiled and looked down at the two bowls he was holding.

"What you got there?" she asked, raising an eyebrow and sat up.

Daryl handed her a bowl. Instead was chunks of dark brown meat with a sticky like glaze.

"Dint know if you were headin out, so…" Daryl said, giving a small shrug.

Sam gestured for him to sit on the bed next to her. He gave it a looked before sitting on the floor, his back resting against the wall. He didn't look up at her as he tucked into his meat.

Sam used her fingers to pick up a chunk and ate it.

"It's sweet," Sam exclaimed, eating more.

"Honey and some herbs. Jus' how momma used to make," Daryl replied, tilting his head to put the big chunks in his mouth.

"See what you miss when you go on a boring run?" Sam smirked and tossed a look at Daryl.

"Damn, annoyin'. Tha' what it is," he replied shaking his head in disgust.

Sam snorted softly and said, "Heard your run didn't go well."

"Nah," he said wiping his hand on his trouser as he finished. "Nothin' worth takin'."

"Shame about Trenton," Sam muttered, licking her fingers. "It had a good pharmacy. I ran out of time to grab anything good."

Sam may have been occupied with her food, but she didn't miss the look on his face.

"What?"

Daryl pulled his knees up and rested his arms on them. "Rick's thinkin' abou' goin' back there."

"What!" Sam exclaimed, her face saying everything.

"He's worried abou' the baby," he said seriously. "We don' have the supplies."

"Has he forgotten that town is a freaking death trap?" Sam asked incredulously.

"I don' think any of us will be forgettin' any time soon."

"I don't believe it," Sam mumbled to herself. The food suddenly sitting heavy in her stomach. "There has to be other towns, hospitals, pharmacies. Hell, even vet clinics."

Sam looked down at Daryl who sat there passively.

"You can't go back to that town, Daryl," Sam said, staring him.

He dropped his eyes in time for a shadow to fall over her room. Tyresse stood by the open door looking down at Daryl.

"Ready for patrol, man?" he asked, clearly oblivious to the atmosphere in the cell.

Daryl nodded up to him and got up. He took Sam's empty bowl without looking at her and walked out of the cell.

Sam shook her head to herself and laid back down on her bed. She was getting too attached to these people. She could already feel herself falling. It was something she warned herself against every time meeting new people. You never know if they are going to leave you behind.

Rubbing her tired eyes, Sam turned to look out of her cell to see if it was light enough to go outside. She didn't get a wink of sleep. Memories and nightmares haunted her mind. Instead she filled it with sketching. But looking out now, and seeing the black sky tinged in very faint dark blue, there was something else she much rather be doing.

Taking the first breath of cool free air, Sam looked out on to the inky black night covered fields. Gripping her bow tighter, she smiled lightly at the unused target practice circles on the neighboring field. Making sure to lock the gate behind her, she strode over to the targets.

She didn't know how much she craved the silence of the early morning until she was stood in the middle of the grass lawn peering towards the red and white painted wood circles. Before she could move her bow effortlessly. But the two months of inactiveness had left her out of shape.

Lifting her bow arm, she frowned at the heaviness, but pushed on. Taking a arrow from her thigh harness, she notched it pulling the taught string to her lip. Her finger struggled with the strain and her hand shook from the pressure. After a breath she released.

"Damn," she whispered, seeing the arrow sticking out of the lawn. Barely making it to the target.

Over the next week, this became her routine. She would get up before the sun and practice for a few hours. Under the cover of pre dawn, where no one was around to watch, she slowly began to get better. Then for the rest of the day, she would either be on the fields, repairing cars or securing new parts of the prison.

Slowly, more slower than she would have liked, her health got better. The tip of her fingers, calloused over from the bowstring, and her hands strengthened from the work and practice.

Whether it was from her busy routine, she didn't see much of the group. Majority of the time she was alone. Like working on the cars. Whenever Glenn was around she taught him new things. But mostly it was just her and the car. He relinquished the mechanic title to her happily.

And when it came to securing safe parts of the prison, she would be alone. The people couldn't be spared. Between patrols, practice and helping rid of the walkers inside the lower levels. With her skill as a mechanic, she created gates that could be sprung incase of invasion and an intricate trap system. Instead of risking their lives, they got rid of walkers within a safer distance.

But towards the end of the second week, her lack of sleep had begun to effected her temperament. Sam would get aggravated easily. Whilst working on a new car that Rick bought it a few days ago, she pulled the wrench to hard and smashed her hand on the engine block.

"God, dammit," shouted Sam, clenching her fists and threw the wrench loudly into the engine. The hood slammed closed.

Her body was shaking as she paced to get rid of the pain. Placing her hands on the car to stop her from moving, she leaned into and closed her eyes. Breathing slowly to calm herself down.

"Maybe you've done enough today, Sam."

Gritting her teeth she turned her head and looked up at Hershel. He was frowning at her from his single crutch.

"I'm good," Sam said stiffly, turning back to the car and opening the hood.

"When's the last time you got some sleep?" he asked seriously, walking closer.

"Last night," Sam replied, her head in the car.

"How much sleep did you get last night?"

"Enough."

"Enough? Okay," Hershel said calmly. "Just, your eye's tell a different story. Bloodshot and blackened."

Sam ignored him and continued walking.

"Look at me," Hershel added calmly.

When she didn't move, he repeated it more firmly. "Look at me, Sam."

With a heavy breath, Sam straightened and looked at him. He lifted his hand and closed the hood.

"You need sleep, Sam. You're pushing yourself hard. Don't think we haven't noticed. You sneaking out early, then working all day till it's dark. Barely eating. You can't live like that," Hershel said seriously.

He pierced her with a strong stare until she looked away in guilt. He looked at her and stepped closer.

"What's going on with you," Hershel said softly.

"I can't sleep," Sam said heavily, putting her hands on her hips.

"This heat and the stressful work you're doing can't be helping-."

"No," interrupted Sam, giving him a look both turning around and sitting down heavily on the car.

"I mean, I can't sleep," Sam repeated meaningfully. "Every time I close my eyes I have nightmares."

Hershel looked at her. She showed all the signs of exhaustion. And her eyes had a lost look to them, that he had never seen in her before. Limping forward, he gently sat down on the car hood next to her.

"What do you dream of?" Hershel asked quietly.

"My family," Sam replied looking across the fence to the field where there was self defense class being taught by Michonne and Tyresse. "That they never got home."

"Did you try you phone?"

"I had a little accident," Sam grimanced.

She had wanted to fix it, even sat down to try. But she couldn't make her hands move to the pile of broken plastic that was the phone.

"What about if you took a trip," Hershel suggested carefully. "Do you know where this boat was?"

Sam nodded and shifted her feet, "Yeah. But I'm nowhere near ready. If you know about the morning practice you know how much work I still need."

"I get that," Hershel said, "But could there be a part of you that doesn't want to go?"

Sam crossed her arms and added so quietly that Hershel nearly missed it, "Do you think they made it?"

"I couldn't say," he replied safely.

Sam and Hershel sat silently on the hood and looked anyway without really seeing anything. Both person's thoughts on Sam's family.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen

Hershel couldn't help with her sleep issues. They didn't have that type of medicine. Sam began avoiding him. She didn't want his pitying eyes falling on her. She kept up her work. And felt her self get stronger. That in its self improved her mood. Her arrows were striking home in the worn out bulls eye.

To test out her skill, the morning a weeks after her talk with Hershel, she put away her night sketches and left the cell like usual. But instead of heading to the range, she walked down the driveway to the front gate. A yawning Kane and his friend were stood guard.

"Morning," Sam said, approaching them.

Kane turned sleepily to her and frowned.

"You're not on duty are you?" he asked opening the gate for her.

"No. I'm going hunting today," Sam said walking with him to the other gate. Since the boar attack they had gotten to be good friends. He was one of the few people who made the effort to talk to her, even with her terrible mood.

"Hershel okay this?" he asked suspiciously.

"I ran it by his last night," Sam smiled.

It was kinda true. She asked him if it was okay if she went hunting one morning. He said he saw no problem with it. Her last physical went perfect. Physically, she was healed. But he said about going with Michonne or Daryl.

Since there last conversation in her cell, Daryl has been avoiding her or had been so busy that she couldn't talk. She didn't have the time to fellow up on their issue.

"Alrigh'," he shrugged and slid the gate open slightly.

"Have a good day," he added closing and locking the gate behind her.

Sam started down the road and marveled at the freedom. Smiling she entered the woods.

It was midday before she found a trail of something big. Around her torso was a piece of string with dead squirrels, rabbits and birds were strung up on. She knew she was about a two hour walk away from the prison. So depending on the size of the animal she hunted, she would have to haul it back.

Crouching she tried to identify the tracks. It was four legged and light-footed. A deer maybe? Silently, she followed the tracks till they came up to a small lake. Peeking over the bushes she saw a few jetty's and even a half sunken rotting row boat. Looking to the left, she stilled when she saw a huge stag. Its head was dipped as it gently lapped up the water from the lake.

Its head swiveled up, hearing something Sam couldn't. Lifting her bow up, she notched an arrow and pulled the string easily back. Closing her eye, she aimed for the stag's neck. Moments from letting go, a movement from the bushes to her left paused her fingers.

Looking up she saw a deer and two young come walking out of the tall grass. They approached the stag and drank from the lake, the stag standing guard. Sam lowered the bow and watched. The deer began to rub her checks across the stag's neck while the two young dipped their feet into the water.

With a gesture of the stags long antlers they moved on from the lake, walking and disappearing into the thick woods. Standing up from her hiding place, her eyes lingered on the space they went into.

Her uncle's voice sounded through her mind in that moment.

"Why are you stalling?" he would whisper.

She would look into her pale blue eyes, the eyes of her mother, and say, "It's only a baby. I can't kill a child."

"There's no sentimentality in hunting, Sammy," he would reply, before pulling up his rifle, taking the shot for himself. The boom of the gunshot, echoed through the woods.

Turning away from the gap in the woods, Sam faced the placid lake. It's mirror like surface reflecting the sky making it seem fathomless. The water was clear, until it sloped to deep for her to see.

Taking a look at the trees nearby, she saw a good one she could put her stuff on. Standing on the lower branch, she hid her bow, sword and string on animals on a high enough branch.

Walking up to the lakes edge, kneeling down, she drank from the water and rubbed it on her face. Looking at the lake, she saw no bloated corpses or algae that would suggest the water was contaminated. And she hadn't seen a single walker since starting the day.

The hot weather and the freedom reminded her of better days. With a smile she walked onto the jetty and walked to the end. Pulling her hair out of her plait, which was longer than she had ever had her hair, she took off her top and trousers. Standing in her underwear, she dived in to the water.

The cold water quenched her hot and sun burnt skin. Swimming underwater for as far as her lungs could take her, she watched the underwater world. The green covered rocks and the steeply sloping ground, fading into the black abyss. Arching her back she swum to the surface, her mouth opening in a silent gasp. Laughing, she shook her face and swam onto her back. Muffling her ears under the water, her dark long hair fanning around her, she stared contently into the blue cloudless sky.

This, she though, this is how her life should be. Not a single worry, or thought passed her mind while she was floating on the waters surface.

When he woke up at dawn, Daryl went straight to the kitchen area to sit with Rick and Hershel. They weren't talking about anything in particular, but the conversation of Trenton came back up again. But before the same argument could be started, Kane and his buddy came sleep walking in.

"Weren't you supposed to be in an hour ago?" Rick asked, turning to watch them walk towards the kitchen counter.

"Dave and Missy overslept," Kane yawned, waiting till his friend guzzled down his water.

"I'll have a word."

"S'okay," Kane shrugged. "Nothing happened. Only movement was Sam."

"I thought you had words with 'er," Daryl asked Hershel.

"I did," Hershel replied. "But I don't think it did any good. She's determined to get to that level she was before her coma. If it means practicing every morning, there is nothing I can do or say to change her mind."

"She wasn't practicing," Kane said, his breath rushing out after downing a cup full of water.

"What was she doing?" Rick frowned.

"Heading out. Hunting she said," Kane said walking towards the cell block.

"Kane," Rick said, bring the young lads droopy eyed attention back to him. "What time did she leave."

"'Bout two and a half hours ago," Kane replied. "She said Hershel gave the green light."

"It's okay, Kane," Hershel nodded to the tired guy. "Go get some sleep."

Kane gave them a look before dragging his feet to his cell.

"You said she was okay to go huntin?" Daryl said tightly.

"Technically, she is," Hershel admitted calmly. "She's fully healed. From what I saw yesterday at the range, her skill is remarkable. And she did run it by me first which I will remind you both, she didn't have too."

"She's not ready," Rick argued. "You yourself said she hasn't been sleeping. What if she's to tired to fight properly?"

"Yet she's aware enough during the day to weld hot metal and focus on a car engine," Hershel replied. "I spoke to Thomas before he left. He never saw her have more than an hours sleep at a time. While I admit it's not healthy, you can't question her judgment or ability."

Hershel gave them both a stern look before getting up and limping out of the room.

"She may be alright now, but she does not know this area," Rick whispered to Daryl.

"Two and a half hours is not much of a head start. 'Specially if she's huntin'," Daryl gruffly replied.

"Think you can catch up with her?" Rick asked.

"No doubt, man," Daryl answered.

And she had been easy to track. She made to effort to hide her trail, and quickly caught up with her. He almost stumbled out infront of her hiding place. She was crouched down low, her bow taught and her focus sharp. The arrow released and rustled through the bush till it hit something. Watching as she stood up and claimed her prized, he stayed hidden.

The idea was to casually come about her, but he was intrigued about her hunting skills. So he continued to follow at a safe distance and watched her take down every single thing she aimed at.

Though she looked tired, she was alive. Tilting his head, he saw her crouched over some tracks. She silently followed them as he silently followed her. She paused and watched something from behind a bush. He moved to get a better look. From behind a tree, he saw the stag. Its head looking in his direction.

His hand tightened on his crossbow, he turned to look at Sam. Her aim was perfect position. Except something moved next to him. He saw a deer and two young coming out. They were by the waters edge for a few moments. Frowning, at the scene, he saw that Sam had lowered her bow. She looked at the family with an unreadable expression.

By time the animals and gone, he was tempted to go after them himself. But her movement pushed it out of his mind. Peeking behind the tree, he watched as she put her weapons and kill in a tree and walked to the water. Glancing around the lakeside, he saw nothing that could hurt her, but he gripped his bow tighter now that she discarded her weapons.

He thought that would have been it, except she walked to the end of the jetty. He lowered his eyes and turned when she started taking her clothes off. But his eyes watched her again. He saw her dive into the water.

When she surfaced and floated around, he stalked closer to the bush she had just left. He wanted to announce himself. But the same thing that made him watch her, rooted him on the spot.

She suddenly sat up in the water, he hid more closely to the shrubs thinking she had heard him. But instead he watched her take a few breaths and then dived into the water.

Still having not come up, two minutes later, he started to panic. He stood up and looked around the lake. He saw nothing. No body, no air bubbles. Tempted to jump in after her, he was about to move. Until he felt a sharp blade press into his throat.

Daryl froze and loosened his grip on his bow. Only to use it as a club. Then the person laughed. The knife was gone and Daryl turned around to see a smirking Sam. Her soaking hair was plastered to her face.

"I was wondering when you were going to show yourself," Sam smiled.

"Ya knew I saw following'?" he asked, feeling a fool.

"I nearly shot you with an arrow, of course I knew," Sam answered.

Daryl tried to not look, but his eyes glanced down at her body. Sam caught the movement and lost her smirk. She gave him a warm smile and turned to walk back to the jetty, where her clothes was. He followed.

"If ya knew I were followin' why not say?"

"I wanted you to watch," Sam said pulling on her trousers. She turned to see an expression pass his face.

"Not that way," she laughed. "I wanted to you see that I was capable. That I don't need babysitting."

Daryl lowered his eyes and chewed on his inner check while she pulled on her top. They walked to the tree where her things were.

"How about a friend? Not babysitter," Daryl said breaking the silence.

"That's fine," Sam nodded pulling on her sword. "But sometimes it's nice to be alone."

"Been alone too long, to enjoy anymore," he said honestly.

Sam plaited her hair as he turned to look back at the lake.

"You know you could have joined me," Sam suggested, before batting her eyelashes and adding, "This is a perfect setting for a romantic scene."

Daryl snorted and smiled slightly.

"Can't swim that well," he said gravelly.

"Then I'll just have too teach you," Sam said softly, pushing her shoulder into his.

She lost her smile at the intensity of the moment and the way Daryl looked at her. Forcing a smile, she lightheartedly said, "Let's go home."


End file.
